


All There is Left to do is Unlearn

by gemjam



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemjam/pseuds/gemjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brothel!AU. Mark has spent 10 years at the prestigious Formula One Bordello and has seen all it has to offer, but the shine has been wearing thin for a while and emotions only complicate matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All There is Left to do is Unlearn

**Author's Note:**

> More thanks than I can express go out to zeraparker@livejournal for not only her wonderful beta but for her handholding and encouragement throughout. I honestly couldn't have done it without you!

The gentle rapping on his door didn’t sound like a client. They were usually either brash or tentative, not quietly confident like this. Mark flicked the TV off, arranging himself a little more openly on the sofa, making himself look effortlessly available.

“Come in.”

David swung through the door in a burst of graceless energy and Mark sighed, slouching back down on the sofa.

“How’s tricks?” David asked, slapping Mark’s knee as he moved past him to sit in the luxurious armchair. Mark never sat in that chair. He knew what went on in it. “Just a little prostitute humour for you there,” David winked.

“Hilarious, mate,” Mark said dryly.

“Seriously, come on, how’s it going?” David asked.

Mark sighed, shifting on the sofa and glancing over to the blank TV. The question made him feel heavy, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue it. “I think I’m getting too old for this shit,” he finally admitted.

“Finding it hard to keep up with the kids?” David teased.

“Fuck off,” Mark told him. “I can keep up fine. Just not sure it’s worth the hassle anymore.”

“One thing that’s keeping you here though, isn’t there?” David said knowingly.

“Enlighten me,” Mark challenged, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that doubtlessly came off as childishly defiant.

“Most expensive whore in the whore house,” David suggested, barely able to keep the smirk off his face.

Mark rolled his eyes. “That’d be the worst reason in the world to stick around.”

He wasn’t going to deny that it was true though, or at least partly true. He liked the fact that he could see Fernando every day, the _real_ Fernando, not the front he put on for the clients. He liked being his friend and his confidante, liked sitting around with him and taking the piss out of the more amusing clients. He liked when Fernando had a rough night and came to sprawl out on Mark’s bed, falling asleep halfway through a story and staying there until morning.

“Is he worth all that money?” Mark asked, not meeting David’s eyes.

David shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. Not really my type.”

“Oh, right,” Mark replied, perking up slightly. “Sorry, forgot you like them barely legal.”

“You could find out, though,” David told him. “Jump the fence like me. Retire and become a client instead. Lot more fun.”

“I don’t want to be his client,” Mark dismissed. The thought of it made him cringe. He wasn’t sure how David did it after everything he’d seen, everything he’d done.

“You couldn’t afford him anyway,” David told him.

“I’ve been doing this long enough,” Mark replied. “I’ve got a nice little nest egg saved up.”

“And you’d spend it all on him?” David asked.

“No,” Mark responded, looking down at his hands. “Not like that.” He took a breath, looking up at David and forcing himself to focus. “Look, do you want a blowjob or not, mate?”

David shook his head. “Seb already sorted me out. Just thought I’d pop in to see you on my way past.”

“Was wondering why my phone hadn’t rung,” Mark stated. “Well, I hope you’re planning on compensating me for my time.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” David told him. “Cash in hand so Christian won’t get a cut. Or Bernie, that dirty old git.”

“You can talk,” Mark commented.

“Oh, come off it,” David complained. “I’m not even old enough to be their fathers. He’s old enough to be the _grand_ father of everyone here, including the old bastards like you. I don’t know how you put up with having him touching you. Absolute worst part of the job.”

Mark shrugged. It didn’t get to him as much as a lot of things in this place did. There were infinitely worse things than indulging an old man who liked to cop a feel every now and then. It never went any further than that.

“It’s worth it for the benefits,” he stated. “I mean, look what happened to Robert when he tried to get a little extra work on the side. It’s not worth the risks. This is the safest place to be. He looks after what’s his.”

“At a price,” David pointed out.

“He’s a business man,” Mark responded unapologetically. “He doesn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.”

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you told him to fuck off,” David said. “I think you’ve paid your dues.”

“Well, thanks for popping in to cheer me up, mate,” Mark offered sarcastically. “Didn’t realise you were my new careers adviser. You give Seb the same speech?”

“Seb’s at his peak,” David dismissed. “He was just telling me how he’s top of the leader board for the second year running.”

Mark rolled his eyes. The leader board was bullshit, absolute bullshit, nothing but a stupid popularity contest. He didn’t know which of the office staff kept that fucking tick sheet, counting off the clients each of them managed to satisfy, but he suspected Felipe’s lover boy, Rob Smedley. He suspected this because Felipe got little gold stars instead of the plain ticks that everyone else received. Mark didn’t know why Rob would be so interested in keeping track, being that Felipe hadn’t been near the top for a long time now, but maybe that was the point. Maybe he liked a reminder on his office wall in black and white and gold that, while he might be dating a whore, he wasn’t dating the biggest whore by a long shot.

“Well, on that cheery note, I think I’ll love you and leave you,” David told him, clearly reading the less than enthused look on Mark’s face. He got to his feet, pulling some notes from his pocket and dropping a few twenties down on the table. “That enough to make up for me ruining your afternoon?”

Mark glanced at the cash. It wasn’t proper to touch it, count it, until David had gone. “Thanks, mate,” he responded, getting to his own feet with a sigh. “Come on, I’ll walk you out. Could do with stretching the old legs.”

“Want to go have a look for Fernando?” David asked, giving him a knowing look.

“Just want to make sure you’ve fucking gone,” Mark responded, giving him a little shove towards the door.

As he said goodbye to David, he glanced into the office. Seb’s ticks loomed far ahead of everyone else’s and Mark considered, not for the first time, that every paying customer who came into this place was a fucking idiot. Seb might be young, enthusiastic, efficient, but that didn’t make him the best, not in this game. Jenson, trailing a distant second, now he was worth paying for, Mark mused. Jenson was all about technique and he knew every trick in the fucking book.

Mark himself was third, a respectable enough position to be in. He knew he’d be higher if Christian didn’t send 90% of the clients who walked through the door up to Seb’s room, but he didn’t really blame him. No one was going to complain at having Seb laid out before them; he was cute as a button and debauched as they came, even Mark could admit that. Mark himself was more of an acquired taste, he supposed. He had his regulars and then a certain type of person who liked something a little bit rougher around the edges.

Fernando was fourth, but Mark knew for a fact that he was the only one there who was really playing the game right. With the amount he charged, he was still making more money than Seb without having to put in half as much effort. Quality over quantity. He had it all worked out; a fact that Mark admired and abhorred in equal measures.

He headed through to the rec room, just about the only place in the complex that was completely out of bounds to clients, where they could all relax and not have to put on a show for once. Mark paused in the doorway, looking around to see who was there. Lewis and Jenson were playing Mario Kart, their trademark competitiveness apparently going into overdrive, while Felipe watched, curled up in an armchair with a pout on his face. Nico and Adrian were over by the table, playing cards and giving each other meaningful looks. Mark definitely wasn’t going to interrupt that. He walked over towards the others, trying to seem casual.

“Anyone seen Fernando?” he asked, casting a glance towards the back of the room where Michael was regaling Sergio with stories of his golden years.

“You mean you did not _hear_ him?” Felipe asked grumpily. “Do you think that they pay him to make that much noise? For sure, is not needed.”

“With a client then,” Mark nodded, sitting down on the other sofa and trying not to look disappointed.

“Why can they not soundproof these rooms if he is going to be making that much noise?” Felipe continued.

“Bernie says it ruins the atmosphere,” Mark pointed out. “Little bit of lurid sex noises is just foreplay to the guys who come in here. Makes them reach deeper into their pockets.”

“Is not foreplay for me,” Felipe grumbled. “I have to be next to him all day. Is no fair.”

“As the man at the other side of that wall, I wholeheartedly agree,” Lewis cut in. “You can tell he’s faking it anyway. No one likes getting their arse pounded that much, not even a little slut like him.”

Mark sunk back into the cushions, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. It wasn’t as if he could argue with anything they were saying. Fernando was a showman, pure and simple, and he was using that fact to get ahead. He knew that none of them in the Formula One Bordello could claim to have high morals, but Fernando did seem to be able to put his aside exceptionally quickly when there was a bit of money to be made.

“Do you want a go?” Jenson asked him, holding out the controller. Mark just gave a curt shake of his head, staring blankly at the screen. Jenson shrugged, setting up another game with Lewis, and Mark let himself be hypnotised by the colourful graphics.

He wasn’t sure how much later it was when Fernando finally came into the room. It was clearly only moments after he’d finished being fucked. His face was still flushed, his hair messy and falling all over like someone had just had a really good time pulling on it. He looked fucking gorgeous, even with that cocky swagger, and Mark hated himself for thinking it.

Felipe threw him a dirty glare as he came into the room and Fernando just winked at him, falling down on the sofa beside Mark.

“You’re disgusting,” Felipe told him.

Fernando shrugged extravagantly. “He did not seem to think so.” A smirk grew on his lips. “In fact, he ask me if he can take a photograph.” He was showing off, looking extremely proud of himself, but Mark couldn’t help feeling uneasy.

“What did you tell him?”

Fernando turned to face Mark, his expression more honest but no less pleased. He looked conspiratorial, as if Mark were somehow encouraging him. “I tell him five grand.”

“Five grand?” Lewis barked, his attention abandoning the game. “Are you fucking kidding? For a photo of something he could get in the flesh, a hell of a lot cheaper, whenever he wanted?”

“I am not _much_ cheaper,” Fernando said pointedly, highlighting Lewis’s own falling fortunes this year. “And that is not for keeps.”

“Did he laugh in your fucking face?” Lewis scoffed.

“No,” Fernando replied, drawing out the moment, clearly enjoying it. “He got out his wallet.”

Lewis gaped at him. Mark couldn’t help giving him a pleading look.

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“Is just a photo,” Fernando shrugged. “Cash for me. None for Stefano. Big pay today.”

“Yeah, but that’s...” Mark began, giving an exasperated sigh. “Fer, it’s not safe. You can’t do shit like that.”

“Why is not safe?” Fernando asked. “Is only photo.”

“You have no idea what he’s going to do with it, mate,” Mark stated. “You can’t trust the fucking scum that come through this place. Letting them have your body here, where it’s safe, where you’re protected, that’s one thing. Giving him a piece of you to take away and...” He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about it.

“I think you are all jealous,” Fernando said defensively, the confidence gone from his spiel.

“Or maybe some of us just care about you more than you bother to care about yourself,” Mark spat back, getting to his feet and stalking out of the room.

“Moron,” he heard Lewis throw towards Fernando as the game started back up again.

“Fuck off,” Fernando said sulkily and Mark tried his hardest not to imagine the sad little expression on his face.

When he got back up to his room he found himself faced with the money David had left on the table for him. He grabbed it, trying to resist the urge to count, but he couldn’t help himself. It made him feel dirty, knowing how imbedded in him it was, even if he hadn’t done anything but have a conversation with a friend to get this. Somehow, that almost made it worse.

He walked past the safe in the wall, hidden behind a painting he definitely hadn’t chosen, and went straight to his bed, lifting the mattress and reaching to the middle for the zip lock bag. He knew it wasn’t really safe here, where any grubby set of hands could reach and grab it, but he also knew that Christian had the combination to that safe and liked to keep tabs on how much his boys had left in the pot. He didn’t want Christian to know he had this much saved up, not until he was ready to tell him he was leaving with it.

With a sigh he placed the mattress back down, knowing that day might never come. He wasn’t sure he was brave enough to leave like David did. He’d probably just stick around, hating it, until the inevitable day when Christian decided to take the initiative and replace him.

The rest of the evening was spent slumped in front of the TV. He wasn’t really watching it, he just kept it on for company, a bit of background noise to stop his own thoughts becoming too loud. He was just starting to drift off when he heard a knock at the door that he instantly recognised as Fernando’s.

“Yeah,” he called gruffly.

Fernando slipped into the room, closing the door behind himself. He looked at Mark, almost cautiously, as he stepped across the floor in his socked feet, hopping up to perch on the end of Mark’s bed. Mark stared at his socks, how white they were, and it felt like a strangely intimate moment.

“You are upset with me,” Fernando said. It was a clear statement, not a question.

“Just a bit disappointed,” Mark responded, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Is this not worse?” Fernando asked.

Mark stared at him. “Why can’t you be smarter? After all these fucking years, Fernando.”

“I make five grand with one photo,” Fernando stated. “I think I am smart.”

Mark sighed. Fernando was clearly sticking to his story; Mark didn’t have the energy to argue with him anymore.

“Were you naked?” he asked, feeling increasingly protective. Fernando at least had the good sense to look slightly embarrassed now. He nodded his head. “Full frontal?” Mark asked.

“Sort of,” Fernando admitted. “I mean, yes. I was laid on the bed.”

“Hard?”

Fernando shook his head. “This was already after I had come.”

“Were you a mess?” Mark asked.

Fernando gave a half-shrug, his mouth twitching uncomfortably. “I had just come.”

Mark put his head in his hands, trying to scrub away the mental image of some dirty old man looming over him while he was vulnerable like that. Not even Fernando could have his full mind in gear right after he came, especially not if someone was dangling five grand in front of him.

“Please do not be angry with me,” Fernando said, his voice small and timid, so unlike his usual bluster. This was the side of Fernando that no one else got to see, but Mark wasn’t particularly grateful to be faced with it right now.

“I’m not,” he muttered, bringing his head back up. “I’m just trying to work out how bad this is. Fucking bad, Fer.”

“Please don’t tell Stefano,” Fernando pleaded. “I think I will be in trouble.”

“I won’t tell, mate” Mark promised.

“And he will try and take my money,” Fernando said.

Mark couldn’t help giving him a dirty look. “Is that all you fucking care about? Your precious money?”

Fernando gave an unapologetic shrug. “Why else I would be doing this?”

Mark gave an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. Fernando laid back on the bed, head on Mark’s pillow, staring at the ceiling.

“Sometimes I think about being number one again,” he admitted. “But I think that Seb can have it. I will take my money. Money is better. Their love will not get me anywhere.”

Mark laid back on the sofa, propping his feet up on the edge. It wasn’t really long enough, but it would do.

“Night, Fer.”

“You are not coming onto the bed?” Fernando asked.

“Think I’ll stay here tonight,” Mark told him.

Fernando rolled onto his side, his hands forming a pillow under his head, and he looked so sweet and innocent. He stared at Mark who stared back.

“I have made you sad,” Fernando said.

Mark shook his head. “Go to sleep.”

Fernando offered him a tiny smile, closing his eyes. Mark watched him until his body become slack and his breaths came deep and even, and then he let his own eyes slip closed, content that Fernando was safe.

He woke with a crick in his neck and Fernando gone, his phone ringing irritatingly on the table. He grabbed for it, looking at the caller ID. Ciaron’s extension in the office.

“Please tell me you haven’t got someone waiting in the lobby,” Mark answered. “Not very presentable at this particular moment in time, mate.”

“Phone booking,” Ciaron told him. “You’ve got an hour.”

“Good,” Mark sighed, forcing himself to sit up. He rubbed his neck, flexing it to try and ease the stiffness.

“Shall I send the boys up to sort the bed now, or do you need some time to throw Fernando out of it first?” Ciaron asked.

Mark looked over at the bed. “Fernando’s not here.”

“Oh,” Ciaron said. “He was not in a good mood last night. Thought he’d probably end up there.”

Mark could lie, or simply stay silent, but there didn’t seem much point, not with Ciaron. He was the one person in this whole place who Mark had to absolutely trust; the one who vetted the strangers before he sent them up to Mark’s room.

“He already left,” he stated.

“Right,” Ciaron stated; neutral, non-judgemental Ciaron. “So should I send the boys up?”

“Yeah, go for it,” Mark told him. “I’m going to jump in the shower.”

“Alright,” Ciaron replied, his mind clearly going to the task at hand. “So long as there’s no problems, you’ll be hearing from me in an hour.”

“Thanks, mate.”

Mark got to his feet, looking over at the bed, the way Fernando had left his covers all rumpled. The boys would be up in a minute, stripping it all off and starting again. Then, when his client had left, they’d come back up and make it fresh and clean once more, like nothing had happened.

People called them glorified chambermaids, but Mark knew there was much more to it than that. They worked like a well oiled machine, each man knowing their job, the tiny part of the puzzle that they had to perform to get everything done in record time. They gave the impression that everything was perfect, hid what really went on in those rooms, on those sheets, so that anyone walking through the door felt like they were entering a pristine, untouched environment that only they got to spoil in any way they chose.

He stepped under the hot stream of the shower, trying to clear his mind as he went through the motions of getting ready. He wasn’t superstitious like some of the guys here were, didn’t have any lucky charms or strict rituals, but he did have a routine, something that helped him get into the right frame of mind. He used to be eager, back in the early days when this was new to him, but he found that the years had worn down his enthusiasm and his clients had nothing new to show him now. It wasn’t that he hated it, not really, he just saw it for what it was. He couldn’t believe he ever thought this would be _glamorous_.

When he emerged, a towel wrapped snugly around his waist, the boys had done their magic and the room looked anonymous but inviting. Mark wandered through it, scared to touch anything for fear of breaking the illusion. He took clothes from the closet, an outfit he now considered to be on par with a uniform, and dressed slowly, methodically, making sure to put the towel in the hamper when he was finished so that everything looked as effortless as it was supposed to. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

It wasn’t long before he was back in the shower again, his client satisfied and a decent tip sitting on his bedside table; another addition to go with his stockpile under the bed. There was a routine to these showers as well, a kind of debrief that went on inside his head, helping him to file it all away in the correct boxes rather than let it linger at the front of his mind. The client had been a fairly straightforward one. He’d mostly just wanted a blowjob, long and luxurious, the shag at the end appearing to be almost an afterthought. He was easy to read, and that was Mark’s favourite kind of client; the kind who made their desires all too easy to fulfil by having them screaming out from their every movement. It made him look all the more attentive and it certainly didn’t hurt his tips.

Back in his casual clothes he headed out of the room, not sparing a look for the messy state the bed had been left in. Down at the office, he leaned into the hatch, motioning to Ciaron.

“You can send the boys up,” he told him. “I’m all finished up there.”

Ciaron gave a nod and then seemed to hesitate, looking at his computer screen. “Listen, can you come here a minute?”

“I’ll grab my cut later,” Mark dismissed. “I’m staying down here for a while.”

“Oh, right,” Ciaron said, as if he’d just remembered that he had an envelope full of cash with Mark’s name on it sat in front of him. “But I just need a word.”

“You not gonna let me do the honours?” David asked, leaning over next to Mark. He played a hand through Mark’s wet hair. “Been having fun?”

“Something like that,” Mark replied, shifting back slightly.

“Don’t you think we should keep this professional?” Ciaron called, giving David a pointed look. David just smirked, rubbing his thumb and fingers together in the universal sign for money. Ciaron sighed, sagging back in his chair.

“Well, it’s reassuring to know you can be bought off so easily,” Mark stated sarcastically. He looked at David. “You’re outvoted. I’m stickler for professionalism I’m afraid. Gotta keep some barriers up, mate.”

He stepped away, making a move towards the office door, when David reached out, placing a hand on his arm.

“I got you a present,” he said. “If you go in there, he’s going to spoil it.”

Despite himself, Mark wavered. Presents from admirers were one of the things he couldn’t help being taken in by when he was younger and prettier and courted attention much more favourably. They were much less saleable than cold hard cash but there was something about them that elevated you above what you were. They made you feel like you were worth more than money. It wasn’t a belief that he really bought into, but he liked the idea of it.

“Shall we go upstairs?” David asked, clearly knowing that he’d won.

Mark shook his head. “They’re doing their thing up there.” He cast his eyes around, spying the negotiation rooms. “This way.”

He slid the sign on the door to ‘occupied’ and led David inside. It was a stark room furnished only with two chairs and a small table between them. It wasn’t a room Mark ever had to go into; Ciaron did all of his negotiating for him. It made it seem less sleazy for the P.A.s to do the dirty work of discussing prices and services so that when the client got upstairs it needn’t be anything but a fantasy.

Mark sat back in one of the chairs, looking expectantly at David as he settled himself into the other. “Well?”

“Haven’t you learnt how to be more patient?” David chided.

“With people that are paying me, yes,” Mark responded pointedly. “With arsehole ex-colleagues, less so.”

“Hey, you should be nice to me,” David told him. “I mean, I know to you this is all foreplay, but...” Mark rolled his eyes, getting impatient. He didn’t mean to be grumpy but there was something about David’s demeanour that was winding him up. He didn’t trust this. David smirked. “I’ve bought you. Booked myself in. You’re mine for the whole evening.”

Mark stared at him. He tried very hard not to be ungrateful, he knew just how much that would have cost David, but he was sure he was missing something. “That’s my present?” he asked, trying to sound curious and not biting.

“I bought you,” David said, hardly able to contain his glee. “And I bought Fernando.”

Mark felt a hideous sinking feeling in his gut. He gave David a look of pleading and disbelief and _you cannot be this fucking stupid_.

“What?” David asked, suddenly cautious. “You wanted to know if he was worth all that money. Now you can find out. And, hey, you might even pick up some tips.”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t want to pay for him. I _said_ I didn’t want to pay for him.”

“You’re not,” David said. “I am. And you have no fucking clue how much he costs for exclusivity. Makes me shudder just to think about it.”

“David,” Mark said helplessly, no idea how to explain the churning inside his stomach and his brain. “You should’ve _asked_. That’s... that’s not what I want.”

“You need to get him out of your system,” David stated coldly. “I’m doing you a favour.”

Mark sighed, resting his head in his hands. Maybe this was what he needed; a bit of tough love, someone to cut through the bullshit. He’d never seen his ideas about Fernando as being particularly romantic, he’d always been grounded through his career at the bordello, but he’d always hoped that when it happened, _if_ it happened, it was going to be real. David was probably right, it was time to face facts. His entire relationship with Fernando had essentially been in his head. They were friends, that was all. If he was ever going to move on, maybe this is what it was going to take.

He lifted his head, meeting David’s patient eyes, and he couldn’t describe in that moment how grateful he was to simply be given time.

“Okay,” he nodded.

David breathed out looking relieved. “That’s the spirit. And you better make sure you fucking enjoy yourself.”

Mark couldn’t resist the smile that quirked at his lips. “I’ll try my best, mate.”

“No, come on,” David encouraged. “I’m paying him, he has to do whatever I say. So what do you want him to do? Lay down a fantasy for me and I can make it come true.”

Mark snorted a laugh. “My own little fairy godmother of sex.”

“I’m serious,” David told him. “I won’t get involved. Well, unless for some reason your fantasy involves an out of shape Scot lumbering around the bed with you, but I can’t see that it would. So what do you want?”

Mark looked down at the tabletop thoughtfully. He was embarrassed by the answer. When you were offered a man like Fernando Alonso on a plate, a dirty whore who’d do anything and love it, you were supposed to take advantage.

“I just...” he began, his voice wavering at the admission. “I just want to fuck him. No fancy tricks, no kinky shit, no bells and whistles. Just a fuck. That’s it.”

He dared to look up, knowing before he saw it the sympathetic look that would be painted on David’s face. Mark felt pathetic, flicking his eyes away. This was a bad idea, but he couldn’t find the words to make it stop.

“Alright,” David finally nodded. “Then that’s what it’ll be.”

Mark watched as David got to his feet, offering a friendly smile before leaving him alone. It took Mark a few moments to compose himself and quiet his thoughts, or at least push them to the back of his mind.

He headed back over to the office, walking inside and joining Ciaron at his desk. “I don’t want any more appointments today,” he said. “I’m taking the afternoon off. Anyone rings up, book them in for tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Ciaron nodded, tapping away at his keyboard. He looked up at Mark. “Listen, are you alright with tonight?”

“It’s fine,” Mark assured him.

“Because I can make it not happen,” Ciaron told him. “No repercussions.”

“It’s happening,” Mark said pointedly.

“Okay,” Ciaron agreed. “You want to take this?” He held up Mark’s share of his morning client’s fee.

“Thanks,” Mark said, grabbing the envelope.

“You take care of yourself,” Ciaron called after him. Mark tried not to cringe at the words. Good advice he knew he wasn’t going to take.

His room seemed suddenly oppressive to him so, after he’d stashed his money, he headed downstairs, hoping the noise and activity of the rec room would bring him out of himself a bit. Playing Mario Kart with Jenson and Rubens certainly helped lift his mood.

Mark couldn’t help but feel humble whenever he was around Rubens. He was the longest serving person in the bordello and it seemed amazing to Mark that he always had a smile for the place, even after all this time. He loved it, lived for it, and so no one dared mention the fact that he hadn’t been offered a contract for next year. It seemed so unfair when Mark spent his time questioning what he was still doing here and Rubens was desperately trying to prove that he was a worthy investment. Fair had little to do with this place though. It was all down to luck, and successful as he’d been at this game, Mark had never had luck on his side. For Rubens, it seemed like he’d finally run out as well.

Back up in his room, Mark sat flicking through the sports channels, looking for something to divert his attention with for a while. The day seemed still stretched out before him and he wondered if he should have taken another client or two on, just to fill some time, but he knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind for it. It was dangerous to do these things when your head wasn’t in the right place and Mark had long since learnt his limits. Tonight was going to be something else though.

The door opened and Fernando let himself in, swinging the door closed behind himself.

“I could’ve been with a client, mate,” Mark pointed out.

“I knew you were not,” Fernando dismissed. “I could hear the TV. Sports channel. No client.”

Mark flicked the TV off. “Had a client once who wanted me to suck him off while he watched the football.”

“Oh,” Fernando said, sitting down beside him. “I don’t think I would like that. I would not be able to see the score.” Mark laughed, which made Fernando smile. “Anyway,” he continued, “I think we have something to discuss.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed, wondering if that surge of adrenaline in his gut was the good kind of anticipation or the bad.

“You tell me about him,” Fernando requested. “Is he good tipper?”

Mark couldn’t help but give an internal sigh at where Fernando’s priorities always laid. “He’s generous,” he assured him. “He’s been where we are, he knows the score.”

Fernando nodded thoughtfully, pursing his lips. “What does he like?”

“I, uh,” Mark began hesitantly. “I think he just wants to watch actually.”

“Ah,” Fernando said knowingly. “So, you and me,” he stated with a smile that could only be described as flirtatious. Mark tried very hard not to react to it. “Is good. Is easier for me.”

“How’s that?” Mark asked, wondering if he should be offended.

“If he is not touching then is only show,” Fernando said. “He will get himself off. Less work for me. And I am always very good at putting on a show.”

He looked proud. Mark remembered the conversation between Felipe and Lewis in the rec room yesterday about just how loud Fernando was.

“Well, I will go,” Fernando stated. “I have client in half an hour.”

“A client?” Mark asked, hating how naive he sounded, but the idea of Fernando fucking someone else before their meeting made him shrink away.

Fernando nodded, oblivious, as he got to his feet. “I will see you later.” He turned back around as he reached the door. “Oh, you want to do it in my room or yours?”

“Yours,” Mark said quickly. The thought of having all of those memories tied up in his own bed was unthinkable. He’d never sleep again.

“I will tell Andrea,” Fernando agreed, letting himself out of the door.

Mark spent more time than normal in the shower that evening, knowing that his usual routine wasn’t quite going to be enough. He wasn’t sure that anything would get him ready for this. Inside the shower, closed in by the glass screen and surrounded by steam and hot water, was always the place Mark had felt safest during his career. It was the only place where he felt like he was truly alone and able to be himself, where his thoughts could be free and honest. It was a much needed sanctuary in a highly stressful job where he was required to always perform, always be polite and open, always give away tiny pieces of himself that normal people would never be asked to part with.

He didn’t feel hard done by, didn’t feel exploited. This was the life he’d asked for, the life he’d sought out, and he didn’t regret it. He might have spent more time than he’d admit to over the last 16 years feeling homesick for the other side of the world, but he didn’t feel like that was a fair reflection on the path he’d taken. When Ann had offered to show him the European scene at the age of 19, he’d jumped at the chance and he’d never stopped being grateful to her for showing him this exciting new world. He’d heard about it, how high paid and respected bordello work was in Europe, the kind of lives they had the opportunity to lead, but seeing it all in person made him more certain than ever that this was the direction he wanted his life to take.

The perks were second to none when you got the right kind of client. Now, in the off-season, everything always felt a bit stagnant; sitting around and waiting for people to come to you for a quick half-hour. When things were in full swing and they were open to offers from anyone, not just the bordello insiders, that was when the job really came to life.

Being bought for whole evenings, even whole weekends, was a frequent and usually gratifying experience. They were taken to glamorous events, exotic locations, on the arms of very rich and generous investors. They might be whores at the end of the day, but the job itself offered a much wider spectrum than that. They were expensive commodities that people the world over wanted to get their hands on and enjoy, and the type of men that bought them were not only rich but competitive. They knew that the people they were buying had seen and experienced so many things at the hands of clients just like them, and they wanted to be the ones to show them something new.

Mark worked his way up through the smaller bordellos, Ann always helping him network with the right kind of people, until he finally earned a place in the most prestigious brothel in all of the world, the internationally renowned Formula One Bordello. He was twenty-five, undeniably old for a rookie, but he found that what he lacked in innocent youth, he could make up for in experience, and he was never left wanting for clients. He brought something to the game that helped him to continue to claw his way up through the ranks and now he had a number 2 proudly adorning his door. Any bitterness he felt about it not being a number 1 was directed much more towards himself than at Seb. He’d made his own mistakes; he was more than willing to live with them. Tonight, he had a feeling he’d be racking up another one.

Rinsing his body under the hot jet of water, Mark let his mind settle on that fact for the first time since he’d spoken to David that morning. Everything was about to change. Maybe it was a dramatic thought, but it was an honest one too. He’d known Fernando for 10 years, been close friends with him for nearly as long. His relationship with Fernando was intrinsically tied up in his experience at the bordello and now he couldn’t imagine one without the other. For better or worse, things were about to shift, and Mark was scared that his careful balance would be destroyed and he was going to lose everything.

He headed to Fernando’s room twenty minutes before David was due to arrive. As Fernando called him inside, Mark took a deep breath, concentrating on looking professional and not nervous. To Fernando this was just another job, just one more thing he got paid to do, and Mark had to treat it the same way. This wasn’t a love story; he knew enough to know that. If anything, it would probably end up being a goodbye. He’d prepared himself for that fact a million times over, but he still wasn’t sure he was ready.

Fernando was standing by the bed dressed in a red shirt and some tight black underwear. Mark couldn’t help the way his eyes scanned up and down.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

Fernando gave him an irritated look, grabbing two pairs of trousers from the bed and holding them up for Mark’s inspection. “I am not sure if I should wear the jeans or the smart trousers,” he said. “What would David like?”

“I don’t think he gives a fuck,” Mark stated bluntly. Fernando dropped them both down onto the bed, looking rather defeated. “To be honest, mate, he’ll have you out of them before he notices what colour they are.”

“He is paying a lot of money,” Fernando said, looking down at his choices. “I thought he might go a little bit slow. You only pay for a whole evening if you think you are going to use it.”

Mark’s phone rang in his pocket. He turned his back on Fernando, leaving him to his quandary as he answered the call.

“Yeah?”

“David’s here,” Ciaron told him. “We’re all sorted. He’s just in the negotiation room with Andrea, so you probably shouldn’t expect him for another hour.”

It was a well known fact that Andrea went over Fernando’s clients with a fine toothed comb, getting every last penny out of them that he possibly could. Fernando was the most demanding person that Mark had ever met and Andrea tried harder than anyone to make sure he was always happy, for his own sake as much as Fernando’s.

Mark wandered across the room, pulling back the edge of the curtain to look out into the darkness. “That’s fine.”

“And I won’t be coming up,” Ciaron added, almost reluctantly. “It’s Fernando’s room. Andrea gets to do the honours.”

“I know,” Mark agreed.

“Andrea’s charging us, you know,” Ciaron said. “For clean up. Cheeky fuck.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mark told him.

“I’m going to contest it,” Ciaron continued. “It’s bullshit.”

“Just pay him,” Mark said.

“But...”

“Ciaron, this isn’t what I need to hear right now,” Mark stated testily.

“Right,” Ciaron agreed. “Sorry. Game face on, right?”

“Something like that,” Mark agreed.

“Okay,” Ciaron said. “And I’m just down here if you need anything. But you’ll be fine. You know what you’re doing.”

“I’m a big boy,” Mark assured him. “I can look after myself.”

“Of course you can,” Ciaron agreed. “So I’ll speak to you after.”

“See you on the other side, mate.”

Mark hung up the phone and let the curtain drop away with a sigh. He turned to see Fernando looking at him. He’d chosen the smart black trousers.

“Who are you paying?” he asked. “Because I think, Mark, the idea is that they pay us.”

“Yeah, well, I’m paying you,” Mark said. Fernando creased his brow, a silent question. “Or your team,” Mark corrected. “Andrea wants money for cleaning the room.” Fernando opened his mouth to reply but Mark cut him off with a wave of his hand. “It’s not important.”

“I will fix,” Fernando assured him anyway. “Is nasty game he is playing. I will fix it.”

Mark just shrugged, putting his phone back in his pocket. “David’s here.”

Fernando headed over to the mirror, running a hand through his hair. He’d been growing it this year and now it had a habit of falling down around his eyes whenever he leaned his head forward. Mark knew his decision was influenced more by some very high paying clients who liked to have something to hold onto than by any particular style choice, but he had to admit that the unruly waves suited Fernando. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about running his own hands through it. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Fernando cast his eyes around the room, checking that nothing had been left out of place. He turned to Mark. “Do you think we should greet him from the sofa or the bed?”

“I think you should just answer the fucking door,” Mark told him, moving to sit on the end of the bed.

“Are you going to be this grumpy all evening?” Fernando asked, sitting down by his side. He looked at the space between them and shifted closer. Another moment’s hesitation made him pout slightly, the picture clearly not looking right to him.

“Come in,” Mark called out, impatience getting the better of him.

Fernando shot him an irritated look and then arranged himself more purposefully on the bed as the door opened, leaning back slightly and looking sultry.

“I know the rules,” David said dismissively as he came into the room. “Don’t I know the rules, Mark?”

“Inside out and back to front, mate,” Mark agreed. “Not that it ever helped you follow them.”

David smiled at him, shaking his head slightly. Andrea, clearly not convinced, sent a meaningful look towards Fernando. Fernando simply gave a calm little nod, displaying just where the control in this room clearly lay. Andrea retreated obediently, closing the door softly behind him.

Fernando turned his charm full throttle towards David. “Would you like I should take your coat?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“I’d like you to sit your arse back down,” David told him, nodding towards the bed. He slipped his jacket off and threw it towards the sofa.

“Okay,” Fernando agreed, practically purring. He placed himself back down beside Mark, even closer this time, the outside of their thighs pressing together. “Would you like a drink? You can help yourself to anything in the bar.”

“Yeah, at what price?” David asked, looking around the room.

“I will let you have one on the house, as they say,” Fernando replied, smiling ever so slightly at him.

David looked squarely at him. “I get the feeling you don’t give away anything for free.” Fernando opened his mouth to respond. “Shut up,” David said firmly. “I didn’t pay all that money to hear you talk at me all night.”

Fernando closed his mouth, a slow smile spreading its way over his lips as though David telling him off was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to him and he couldn’t wait to see what was coming next. God, but he was good at this. It was a little too cheesy for Mark, but he could see it working perfectly with anyone who walked through that door looking to be taken in.

“You tell me then,” Fernando requested. “What is it you paid all that money for?”

David glanced around again. He walked over to the armchair, using his foot to shift it around until it was facing the bed. He flopped down into it. “I want to see him fuck you.”

There was that smile again, the not so subtle seduction, and Fernando turned towards Mark, raising his eyebrows in a questioning sort of anticipation. “And how you like he should do that?” he asked, the words directed at David even as he held Mark’s eyes with his own. Mark was powerless to look away.

He found himself vaguely aware that Fernando was playing on his accent, making it thicker, putting the words together in a slightly more awkward way than was strictly necessary. He could speak English better than that when he wanted to.

“How about you start by kissing him?” David suggested. “And then we’ll take it from there.”

Fernando turned sharply back towards David. “I do not kiss on the mouth,” he said in a clipped tone, suddenly all business. “No bodily fluids. None.”

“Fer, it’s me,” Mark said, hoping he sounded more incredulous than hurt. “I’m clean. The FIA test us practically constantly, you know I’m clean. I’m not like a client, I think you can relax the rules a little.”

“You kiss clients on the mouth?” Fernando asked, his tone completely cold and unapologetic.

“Sometimes,” Mark replied, feeling himself shrinking away.

“Then you are just like client,” Fernando stated. “You are not safe.” He turned back to David. “I do not kiss on the mouth.”

“Yeah, I got that,” David assured him, sounding unimpressed.

Mark could feel his cheeks burning. How could someone with morals as questionable as Fernando make him feel dirty? He should have known better than to let this happen. Words about idols and clay feet ran through his mind. Inside his head, Fernando was that vulnerable and open person who laid on Mark’s bed and told him everything. In this room, he was just a dirty whore with a job to do. Those two things were never going to mesh well.

“I can kiss him everywhere else,” Fernando stated, that sexy little tone back in his voice.

Mark flicked his eyes up. As Fernando leaned forward, he leaned back. Fernando paused, giving him a very clear look like he had better not fuck this up. When he advanced again, Mark didn’t stop him. Fernando’s mouth ghosted over his cheek and towards his ear, whispering harsh little words out of David’s line of sight.

“I want good tip. You play along. We put on show now and you fucking look like you enjoy yourself.”

Mark closed his eyes, trying to push away the self-loathing. He’d done a lot of questionable things in his ten years at the bordello, but nothing had ever made him feel as unpleasant as this. He felt Fernando’s lips pressing against his jaw, dragging over his skin, and he shuddered despite himself, lost to the sensation. This was something he’d never dared dream of, because that would just be pathetic and destructive, but he’d wanted it, so badly that he had to consciously spend his days thinking about anything else. And now here were Fernando’s lips and they were on his skin and Mark couldn’t manage any thoughts except that.

Then Fernando shifted with little finesse, his lips disappearing before landing on the other side of Mark’s face instead. Mark understood instantly. He was placing himself where David could see the action. This was his benefit, not Mark’s. Any sliver of hope Mark had for disappearing into the moment was well and truly shattered. He felt ungrateful to David, felt traitorous to Fernando, felt so alone that it hurt somewhere deep in his gut. He wanted to tell Fernando to stop, but he also knew that he wouldn’t. He was going to see this through, with grim determination if nothing else. It wouldn’t be real for Fernando, but to him it would be _something_.

He lifted a hand, running his fingers through Fernando’s hair, feeling how silky and soft the strands were; just like he’d always thought. Fernando made a noise, a murmur of a groan, pressing into his touch. He seemed so responsive under Mark’s hands and Mark could see how it would be so easy to get lost in this lie.

Dipping his head he kissed Fernando’s forehead, his cheek, moving down to his neck. Fernando arched backwards, one hand going to grip Mark’s shoulder as he offered himself with a wanton little moan. The noises were subtle, Mark noted, believable enough; a natural soundtrack that emphasised every touch and movement in this careful ballet. He placed his free hand on the small of Fernando’s back, encouraging him to lean back, assuring him he’d catch him, and felt strangely gratified when Fernando responded perfectly. He couldn’t help thinking that it was a shame he had so many feelings tied up with Fernando. They could have worked so well together.

Fernando didn’t taste of anything as Mark experimentally flicked his tongue out against the flesh of his neck. He was too clean, every trace of himself washed away. Clinical, Mark thought, his hand unintentionally closing into a fist around the back of Fernando’s expensive shirt. He wanted something real; he knew this wasn’t the right place to find it.

Real was their night time conversations, real was Fernando beating Lewis at Mario Kart and loving it, real was the way he leaned against Mark when he was sleepy. Real definitely wasn’t something he handed over to people who threw a bit of money his way.

Mark turned, craning his neck to look at David who was watching the pair of them thoughtfully. Mark wasn’t sure how to do this. He’d been watched before, there were a lot of spectators in this business, people who paid good money to watch poetry in motion in the bodies of the professionals, but this was something else. David was inviting Mark to take what he wanted, but Mark knew that what he wanted was raw and messy and would never fool Fernando into thinking this was just another job. He was going to give himself away. He desperately needed David to stop him.

_Say something,_ he mouthed at him. David shrugged, eyes scanning over the pair of them, and then Mark found himself with a lapful of Fernando. He shifted slightly, Fernando’s weight pressing down on his thighs where he straddled him, and the smirk on Fernando’s face only made the blood pool in Mark’s groin faster.

“He’s keen,” David commented, a careful leer in his voice, and Mark looked gratefully over at him. This was becoming a game again. A game was something he could handle, even if it didn’t feel like anyone could really win this one. “Take off his shirt,” David told Mark.

Mark hummed some kind of unnecessary agreement, his hands reaching upwards. He concentrated on not fumbling, pushing each button through its little hole with careful precision. There was a small thrill to be found in tugging Fernando’s neatly tucked shift from his trousers as he neared the bottom, getting to the last few hidden buttons and slipping them open. The way he slid his hands over Fernando’s bare shoulders to push the material out of the way was exactly what he’d do if he was trying to look sensual, but also exactly what he’d do if he had Fernando for real and was savouring every moment. Fernando moved fluidly with him, the shirt falling down onto the floor. Mark had seen Fernando half-naked before more times than he could recall, but never like this. He couldn’t help taking in every detail.

“Feel his cock,” David instructed. Mark looked over, feeling his cheeks heat. He raised his eyebrows. “Feel it,” David encouraged. “Tell me if he’s hard.”

Mark’s eyes flicked up to meet Fernando’s, instinctively asking permission, but Fernando definitely looked more than game. Mark forced himself to push his misplaced propriety aside, allowing his palm to land against Fernando’s crotch, fingers gently squeezing. He was glad that Fernando had decided on the smart trousers as he traced the shape of his half-hard cock through the soft material, feeling the heat radiating through. Fernando hitched subtly forward, making a pleased noise in his throat that was practically begging for more.

“Well?” David prompted.

Mark looked blankly over at him. “Huh?”

“Is he hard?” David asked.

“Oh,” Mark replied. He looked down at his hand that still fondled Fernando through his clothes. “Yeah. Sort of. Mostly.”

“Getting harder,” Fernando cut in. He was telling the truth as well, Mark noted, unable to resist giving him a firm squeeze. “And he is hard too,” Fernando added, grinding shamelessly down with his hips. Mark let out a noise despite himself, hoping Fernando couldn’t tell how unintentional it was.

“Mark,” David said quietly, almost not wanting to intrude. “Get his cock out. Help him get it nice and hard. Bet it doesn’t take much to get him begging.”

Mark let out a heavy breath, working Fernando’s trousers open without allowing himself to think about it. He was grateful to David for keeping things going, for talking in a way that both Mark and Fernando were used to hearing inside these situations. He knew that Fernando would be lapping this up, being the centre of attention, having Mark act out David’s supposed desires. Fernando didn’t mind being treated like a whore, a sexual object, so long as people were wanting him and he got paid at the end of the day. He had an uncanny ability to always come out as the winner, a skill that Mark had never developed for himself.

His fingers slid inside Fernando’s underwear, touching the heated flesh of Fernando’s cock, and Mark almost shied away. It was an embarrassing reaction, given all the things that he’d seen and done, but he was about to take the first real step in a series of events that he wouldn’t be able to take back. Even as the apprehension still sat heavy on his shoulders, he felt it all crystallise inside his mind. He’d rather break this than walk away always wondering.

Fernando inhaled sharply as Mark gripped him, pulling his cock out into the open. He watched, almost mesmerised, burning into his memory the way his fingers looked moving up and down Fernando’s length. This was something he was good at and he indulged himself in doing a few clever little things, unable to keep the smile off his face as he caught Fernando off guard, making him place his hands on Mark’s shoulders as he moaned encouragingly along. Mark knew that Fernando was more than likely exaggerating, but it didn’t dull the enjoyment that he got from playing him so skilfully and knowing that, even if only on a professional level, Fernando had to be appreciating it.

Fernando rocked into his touch and then twisted his body so that he could look at David. “Can I undress him?” he asked, voice heavy and brimming with desire.

“Yeah,” David replied. “If you’re that eager to get fucked. Not that I’m surprised. Your reputation does precede you.”

Fernando smiled at him, slow and extravagant, and then he turned back to Mark, winking at him. Mark wasn’t sure if Fernando thought he was pulling the wool over David’s eyes or just playing him at his own game. Maybe he just thought if he got this over with quickly then it would mean more money for less work. Fernando did everything he could to avoid being value for money while still making the client think they got exactly what they wanted.

He leaned over, making a show of working the buttons of Mark’s shirt open, parting the material to run his fingers over the flesh beneath. His hands were soft, well manicured, his touch sensuous and almost reverent. He gave the impression that he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted this. One more lie that Mark found it so hard not to fall into.

By the time Fernando finally pulled the shirt from Mark’s body, Mark couldn’t stop himself from grabbing Fernando firmly and forcing him closer, their chests pressing together as he latched onto Fernando’s neck with his mouth. Fernando arched back with a wanton moan, urging Mark on. Mark felt like Fernando was being a tease, but really he was the complete opposite. He never made himself in the least bit unavailable, simply moved just slow enough that the other person was forced to take the lead. It was a clever trick to make a client tell him exactly what they wanted without him ever having to ask.

Fernando dipped his head down, kissing Mark’s temple as he ran a hand through his hair. It was strangely tender, making Mark pause. He looked up, meeting Fernando’s eyes, and Fernando looked almost as though he’d been caught in the act. Then he smiled an easy smile and gave a breathy little laugh before leaning back in and kissing a trail down Mark’s face.

Mark couldn’t help looking over Fernando’s shoulder to meet David’s eyes. He wasn’t questioning now, wasn’t appealing for help. If anything, he was marvelling at how it was all unfolding. He knew that he couldn’t trust anything about this, he was far too jaded to think anything real could happen when money was involved, but Fernando was still being his friend, acting like maybe they could have a bit of fun with this, and Mark wasn’t about to take that for granted.

“Well,” David said, voice clear and in control. “I didn’t pay all that money to watch foreplay, boys.”

Mark took it for the invitation it was. In one smooth movement he flipped Fernando over, throwing him down onto the bed and covering Fernando’s body with his own. He ground down hard with his hips, feeling Fernando tense beneath him, his body pushing instinctively upwards. It felt good, even if he couldn’t tell if it was a practiced move from Fernando or not. He did it again and Fernando’s legs fell further open to him as Fernando’s hand grabbed at his shoulder, using the grip as leverage to lift his own shoulders from the bed, craning towards Mark’s ear.

“He wants we should ask or do?”

Mark shrugged and shook his head slightly. He couldn’t concentrate, not when he could feel his cock rubbing against Fernando’s through the haphazard layers that separated them. He thrust down again, rocking Fernando’s body under his own, his lips finding Fernando’s neck, now damp with sweat. It gave him a strange kind of satisfaction to feel Fernando’s body coming undone beneath his own.

He felt Fernando crane away from him as he continued to lavish attention on his neck, their bodies falling together into a kind of harsh rhythm. He knew that Fernando wasn’t looking for an escape but rather seeking David out. If Mark couldn’t answer his question, Fernando would go straight to the source. Fernando wouldn’t ask, but he’d get his answer anyway, one way or another, Mark was sure of that. Fernando always got what he wanted; he was a master at it.

Mark pulled back, hips still moving, to look down at Fernando. His cheeks were flushed, head fallen to the side as he gazed over at David, but he turned to meet Mark’s eyes, seeming somewhat uncertain. His tongue was sticking out, resting against his top lip as though he’d been licking his lips but had gotten distracted by something. It was all Mark could do to not dive in and kiss him. Instead, he reached down, fingers sliding over flesh as they grasped Fernando’s open waistband, practically clawing the layer away from him.

And then Fernando Alonso was naked beneath him. Mark was embarrassed by the pause he took to really appreciate that fact. Fernando Alonso was naked beneath him. He couldn’t claim that it put him into an elite club, Fernando Alonso had been naked beneath a hell of a lot of men, but to Mark it was different. To those men Fernando was just a pretty boy piece of meat. To Mark, well, he wasn’t sure he could contemplate the full enormity of it in that moment.

Fernando must have read something in his eyes because he looked wary, unsure, his gaze flicking over to David before his hands made their way down to the button of Mark’s trousers. He stripped them from Mark slowly, taking his time, his fingers seeming to linger for longer than necessary. Mark couldn’t tell if it was hesitation or admiration.

Holding himself away from Fernando’s body, he wasn’t sure he dared lower himself back down yet. Instead, he knelt up between Fernando’s spread legs, wrapping a hand around Fernando’s cock. Fernando arched his back, looking shamelessly pornographic as a moan escaped his lips, his hands clawing at the sheets beneath him. It was a nice touch. It was exactly the kind of thing that Mark did when a client tried to make him feel good; pretend that it was working.

He stroked Fernando, twisted his hand around the head of his cock, tried to push all of his doubts out of the window. Fernando was the most blasé person Mark had ever met in the bordello, he never let anything get under his skin, not really. He’d had bad experiences, all of them had, if you stayed long enough you were bound to get bought by some dodgy people, but Fernando didn’t let it keep him down. And this, being touched, being given a part to play, was something that Fernando understood. Mark wanted to get him back on steady footing. He wanted him to not have a chance to question what Mark’s intentions might be.

Fernando reached down with his own hand, pushing Mark’s fingers away and taking hold of his own cock. Mark met his eyes, a silent question, but Fernando simply offered a nod towards the drawer by his bed. The tools of the trade. Mark slid over, leaving Fernando to make a show of himself.

He knew Fernando’s preferences. He knew everybody’s preferences, truth be told. It was a common topic of conversation in the rec room: silicone lube vs. water based, ribbed condoms vs. fetherlite. They were always at the mercy of a client’s preferences, of course, and the variety only made them more certain of their own favourites. Fernando liked Astroglide and Durex Elite. Mark was more than happy to indulge him.

Settling himself back between Fernando’s legs he flipped the bottle open, pouring some lube onto his fingers. Fernando’s hand moved slower over his dick as he watched, a smirk settling over his face.

“You are being nice to me,” he teased.

“Only a bit,” Mark told him gruffly, offering a playful look before slapping Fernando’s ankle with the back of his hand. Fernando obeyed the silent instruction, lifting his legs to offer Mark better access.

The thought crossed Mark’s mind that this was another position that a lot of men had seen Fernando in, and he found himself overcome with that familiar protectiveness Fernando alone seemed to inspire in him. He wasn’t going to patronise Fernando by spending undue time getting him ready though. A little bit of fingering could be nice when you got it, but it was by no means necessary. They were professionals; foreplay was often more of an annoyance than a kindness. Fucking was where the real adrenaline came from and they were always impatient to get to it.

He pressed a finger inside Fernando who made a pleased noise and tilted his head back. His body welcomed Mark easily, so Mark pushed another finger inside, concentrating on getting the lube to the right places. Fernando shifted his hips restlessly, making another happy little noise.

“Is good,” he said. He let his head fall to the side, looking over at David. “His cock will feel better, of course.” A slow smile spread over his face. “You are sure you do not want to join us?”

Mark watched out of the corner of his eye as David shook his head. “Fine over here, thanks.”

Mark pulled his fingers out and Fernando pre-empted his next move, reaching for the condom. He looked back over at David as he ripped the packet open with his teeth and then sat up, turning his attention to Mark’s dick.

“Is shame,” Fernando said, rolling the condom over Mark with studied concentration. Mark hissed at the contact, his dick jumping involuntarily, and Fernando smiled. He reached for the lube, looking back over at David. “I have heard some very nice stories about your cock.”

“Concentrate on what you’re doing,” David told him.

Fernando squirted the lube into his palm and then closed his hand around Mark’s cock. Mark let out a strained little noise, trying his best to keep his cool. Fernando was watching him closely though as he moved his hand up and down, a tight pressure through the condom.

“Fuck,” he gritted out.

Fernando smiled that slow, seductive smile at him. “Yes, please.” His eyes flicked once more to David. “How you would like me?”

“Just get on your back and spread your legs,” David told him impatiently. Mark couldn’t help but be amused at David’s evident surprise at just how high maintenance Fernando was. “And shut your fucking mouth.”

Fernando did as he was told, arranging himself like a slutty little gift. As Mark leaned over him, Fernando lifted his legs again, Mark placing a hand behind one of his knees to help bend him in half. He lined himself up and then paused, looking down at Fernando’s face for assent.

“Is okay,” Fernando whispered.

Mark continued to stare at him and he realised that Fernando was nervous too. All of his bravado with David, it was just a distraction from the fact that he was out of his depth. Fernando generally didn’t play well with others, but he’d entertained with colleagues before if the price was right, this was nothing new to him, but the way he was looking at Mark told a different story. Mark wondered if Fernando was as worried as he was about all of the possible repercussions.

When Mark didn’t move, Fernando nodded his encouragement, reaching up a hand and playing with the strands of hair at the nape of Mark’s neck. It was such a gentle gesture and Mark was already regretting what he was about to do, even as his hips moved forward to push his cock into Fernando’s body.

Fernando arched into it, a long, drawn out whine escaping his throat as Mark settled himself deep inside. He shouldn’t savour it, he knew that he shouldn’t, but he let himself pause and just feel the heat, the closeness. He looked into Fernando’s eyes and he allowed himself the briefest of fantasies before blinking himself out of it and pulling his hips back, pushing back in with the start of a punishing rhythm.

Fernando bit down on his lip, fingers closing around the hair he’d just been caressing. He matched Mark’s thrusts, wrapping his legs around Mark’s waist to bring himself closer. Mark was literally surrounded by him, in every way possible, the inescapable feel of Fernando’s body touching every part of him. He could smell him too, no more subtle soap, just the musk of his sweat and the heavy scent of his arousal as precome leaked in droplets from his dick. Mark wanted to touch him, wanted to lick his fingers afterwards to taste him. He wanted to suck on his neck and see if he could get the real taste of him now, but he also didn’t want to move, not when Fernando was looking at him like that and making ridiculously hot keening noises in the back of his throat.

Mark forced himself to remember that this was just an act, but it was so much more subtle than everything Fernando had been building up to. This wasn’t gratuitous or showy, but he couldn’t quite believe that it was honest either. Not until Fernando used his grip on the back of Mark’s neck to drag him closer, thrusting his tongue inside Mark’s mouth.

Mark couldn’t breathe, not because of the kiss, but because of the implication. Fernando didn’t kiss clients. The fact that he was kissing Mark now could only mean that there was at least a tiny sliver of something real here. Mark wasn’t sure he could handle that. He kissed back, his body already taking what his mind wasn’t quite sure he should let himself have, and Fernando moaned deeply into his mouth, tongues sliding together in a way that made Mark’s head spin.

He pressed his body against Fernando, crushingly close, his hips rocking deep inside him while his hand went to touch the side of his face, cradling him. Fernando’s hand was still caught in Mark’s hair, forcing their mouths together, a kiss that was so impatient and demanding that Mark found it hard to find any evidence that it wasn’t genuine. Did people kiss like this for money? He knew he never had.

As they parted, breath rasping in the close space between them, Mark almost forgot what he was supposed to be doing. He looked down at Fernando, trying his best to keep the rhythm of his hips moving, everything so suffocatingly intimate that he almost wanted to stop. Fucking seemed crude given the way Fernando was looking at him, eyes wide and searching and so overwhelmed.

Mark moved the hand that was resting against Fernando’s cheek, using his fingers to brush away the hair that was sticking damply to Fernando’s forehead. Fernando blinked, shifting slightly under his touch, humming at the sensation. Mark allowed the moment to linger, unable to resist indulging himself. Fernando’s eyes flicked meaningfully downwards before meeting Mark’s imploringly.

“Please,” he said, voice cracking on the single word.

Mark nodded, offering a silent apology, or maybe a reassurance, he wasn’t sure anymore. He refocused his efforts, thrusting into Fernando more significantly as his hand slid over Fernando’s chest and stomach, finding his straining cock. Fernando cried out, a sound too pained and desperate to be anything but real. Mark closed his hand tightly and stroked him up and down, doing everything he could to make it quick.

Fernando’s fingers dug into Mark’s neck as he thrust up against him. Mark could feel it building up inside himself as surely as he could read it in the desperation painted over Fernando’s face. They weren’t playing anymore. Suddenly everything was on the line, but Mark didn’t care; he was ready to fall and he was determined to take Fernando with him. He knew that he didn’t quite understand the enormity of it in that moment, he couldn’t, not with his head so fuzzy, focused only on what was right in front of him.

When he was with a client, nothing felt immediate and he could take or leave the orgasm most of the time. He trained his body to react in certain ways, to hold back when he needed to, to let go when it was demanded of him. He could come on command, but it was always his command, not the client’s. They had no real power over him, no matter what impression he gave. He was always the one in control.

Now, with Fernando, he felt lost, utterly at sea, and he thought that he might die if he didn’t come, if he didn’t consolidate everything they’d built up between them. Fucking was something he did every day, but he honestly couldn’t remember the last time it had felt like this. The adrenaline, the endorphins, the pleasure that ran deep through his veins, these were things he was used to. The connection though, the emotion and desire and deep down fucking _need_ he felt for Fernando was overwhelming and he felt a sob trying to explode from his chest. He pushed it back, looking down into Fernando’s dark eyes as he touched him and fucked him and finally made him come.

Everything was a blur, too wonderful and urgent to be anything else. Mark tried to grab hold of the details, wanting to store them away for the lonely nights he already knew would follow, but all he was aware of was the way that his own body came apart in response. Fernando cried out, bucked against him, clinging to Mark painfully. He threw back his head, eyes rolled upwards, and the wave of euphoria seemed to ricochet off him and hit Mark square in the gut. He wasn’t in control of his body now. He wasn’t in control of anything.

He felt hot, too hot, his skin prickling with sweat as the pleasure sparked through every nerve ending in his body until he felt wound up so tight he was sure he was going to shatter. Fernando’s face, flushed and awash with pure joy and release, went out of focus, blurring as Mark tipped well and truly over the edge. A million sensations seemed to converge at once until Mark wasn’t sure what he was feeling, what he was doing, wasn’t even sure which way was up. His body rocked into Fernando’s with little rhythm or design, working on some base level that Mark hadn’t been aware of for longer than he could remember. This is what it was like to be vulnerable. This is what it was like to give someone everything.

As his orgasm began to dissipate, his muscles went from tense and strained to absolute surrender so that all he felt was heavy and wobbly and sated right down to his bones. He blinked, opening his eyes wide to try and make himself see something, to reconnect with the world.

Fernando shuddered beneath him, his head levelling out from where it was pushed back on the pillow, meeting Mark’s still unfocused gaze. He looked absolutely wasted and utterly beside himself in a way that Mark couldn’t quite identify. He felt protective, wanting to wrap Fernando up, hold him and rock him and whisper in his ear that everything was going to be okay. He couldn’t do that though. He might be a good whore, a good actor, but he was a horrible liar. He knew where to draw the line.

Fernando stared at him, clarity coming back to his eyes, and his loosened his grip on Mark’s neck, trailing fingers over his cheek. He studied Mark’s face, touching his skin lightly, and Mark tried not to move, tried not to breath, afraid of breaking the spell. Fernando ran his fingers over Mark’s lips, his own mouth opening as though he had something to say, but instead he pressed his hands to Mark’s chest, pushing him away.

Mark moved obediently and Fernando rolled out from under him, pushing himself backwards until he was on the edge of the bed, Mark literally an arm’s length away, the fingers of Fernando’s outstretched arm just shy of brushing against Mark’s chest. His other arm was wrapped protectively around himself, his eyes closed as if he could wish himself away. Mark watched him, the careful neutrality of his face, the deep and concentrated breaths in and out.

He was aware of David moving behind him, but he didn’t look. He kept his eyes on Fernando as David collected his things, as he walked around the bed, as he threw a pile of notes on Fernando’s beside cabinet on his way out. When the door clicked back into place Mark sighed, moving slowly as he forced himself to sit up. His body felt as though it should creak from the effort it took. He gathered his clothes from the floor, slipping each item on one by one. Once he was dressed he looked back to Fernando on the bed. He hadn’t moved, looking as though he’d dozed off to sleep, but Mark could tell he was awake. A million thoughts jostled for attention in his brain but only one truly shone through. They’d broken it. How freeing it was to finally know exactly what he had to do next.

He left Fernando without a goodbye, knowing that it wouldn’t be welcome. When he showered back in his room, he tried to treat it like any other debrief, but he couldn’t really begin to get his head around this one. There would never be a neat box he would be able to put Fernando into in his mind.

He didn’t sleep much that night, tossing and turning as the images kept invading his brain. It was everything he wanted from Fernando, but in his mind they weren’t in the bordello, weren’t being watched, weren’t just objects being bought and sold. They were in all the mundane places that Mark hadn’t shared intimacy in since before he came to Europe; bedrooms and bathrooms and kitchens of houses that were used for living in and nothing else. Fantasies of domesticity had never been so appealing.

In the morning he was up early, walking into the office and finding Ciaron at his desk. He saw Mark approaching and cast his eyes around the desk, picking up an envelope. He held it wordlessly up to him. Mark stared at it for a second, feeling his stomach flip unpleasantly, and then decided to ignore it and focus on Ciaron instead.

“I need to talk to Christian.”

Ciaron glanced at the envelope and then placed it back down on the desk. “He’s busy,” he stated. “Important phone call. Dietrich.”

“I’ll wait,” Mark responded, grabbing a chair from a nearby desk and sitting down.

Ciaron stared at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fantastic, mate,” Mark told him, little enthusiasm in his voice.

“Right,” Ciaron responded, looking anything but convinced. “I’ll, uh, I’ll let him know you’re here then.”

He tapped away on his computer and Mark diverted his attention elsewhere, eyes scanning the press releases and FIA notices that lined the walls. Somehow it seemed more seedy in here than it did in the bedrooms. Upstairs was where the illusion was, but down here it was blatantly obvious that this was just a business; money in exchange for services.

He looked at the leader board, the innocent little ticks that couldn’t even begin to speak of the encounters they represented. Mark was tempted to go over and give himself a gold star for last night. If nothing else it would make it stand out, set it apart from all the other things he’d done, all the people that he’d done them with.

Hushed voices gave way to an uncontrolled giggle and Mark looked over to Rob’s desk. Felipe was sat beside him, feet up on the desk, currently creased over with laughter. Mark watched them, the way they flirted, touched, made each other laugh. It was sweet, heart-warming actually, and even Mark managed a small smile. Felipe and Rob were so close, everything to each other, and Mark tried so hard to believe that it wasn’t going to go up in flames.

Rob’s phone rang and Rob reached over to answer it, chatting away as he typed the details into his computer. Felipe leaned back in his chair, looking around the room until his eyes met Mark’s, catching him watching. Mark should probably have looked away but Felipe’s expression was kind and open so Mark just offered him a tired smile and a tiny wave. Felipe smiled back, looking amused, and saluted at him across the room. Rob put the phone down.

“Alright, sunshine, got you a booking,” he announced. “Why don’t you go upstairs and make yourself look pretty.”

Felipe slipped his feet down from the desk. “For sure,” he agreed. He stood up, leaning over to kiss Rob on the cheek before departing. Rob took the opportunity to slap his arse as he walked way.

“Do me proud, kid.”

Felipe looked back over his shoulder, winking at him. Mark couldn’t get his head around Rob being so relaxed about sending Felipe upstairs to fuck another man when he obviously cared about him so deeply. But Felipe loved this and he was only so good at it because of Rob. Felipe might be the whore, but it was a well known fact that Rob had taught him everything worthwhile he knew about sex. He brought out the best in him, they were a great team, and they’d never known anything else in the whole time they’d been together. This is what worked for them. Mark tried very hard to respect that.

“He’s ready for you,” Ciaron announced.

Mark looked up, glancing towards the corridor that would lead him to the principals’ offices. “Thanks, mate,” he said with a nod, getting to his feet.

“No problem,” Ciaron told him. “Hey, Mark.” Mark turned back, giving him a questioning look. “You know that you can always talk to me about... stuff.”

Mark smiled. “Stuff,” he repeated. “Yeah. I know. Gotta go to the big guy with this one though.”

He walked with determination across the office, knocking firmly on the door. Christian’s voice called him inside and Mark tried his best not to hesitate. He sat himself in the chair opposite Christian’s desk, allowing Christian to study him.

“How’d it go last night?” Christian finally asked. “I mean, I have a feeling that’s what this is about.”

“It went fine,” Mark said.

Christian twisted his mouth thoughtfully. Mark looked away.

“I trusted your judgement,” Christian told him. “Because I _do_ trust your judgement.”

“Yeah?” Mark asked, staring out of the window.

“But we all have out Achilles’ heel,” Christian continued. “I think he might be yours.”

Mark looked back at him. He’d intended to hear Christian out, let him have his say, conduct this conversation calmly so that Christian would have no reason to doubt his decision, but he couldn’t listen to this. He couldn’t sit here and have a heart to heart with someone who thought they understood. No one understood, Mark wasn’t even sure he really understood it himself, but he knew what the answer was and he wasn’t about to let Christian sway him.

“I want to leave.”

Christian blinked. He licked his lips. Mark actually admired his ability to keep his cool. Finally, with a sigh, Christian shook his head.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let this happen,” he said, almost to himself. “I tried to talk to David, but he was avoiding me all day, not surprisingly. I don’t know what the fuck he thought he was doing. Alright, this is a bit of a mess, but it’s not beyond fixing.”

Mark shook his head. “I’m leaving.”

Christian looked at him levelly. “You’re under contract. I appreciate that this is difficult, but...”

“I’ll buy myself out,” Mark told him. “I’m not staying.”

“You can’t afford it,” Christian dismissed.

“I can,” Mark said.

“You can’t,” Christian told him, the words spoken like an apology. “Mark, I know how much you have, it’s not enough.”

“I’ve got more,” Mark told him. “I don’t keep it all in the safe. I have enough. I want out.”

Christian frowned. He looked disappointed and impressed all at once. “Look, you can’t throw this all away because you made a mistake,” he appealed. “It took you a lot of hard work to get where you are. There’s always going to be bad nights. Don’t let it ruin what you have here.”

“It wasn’t a bad night,” Mark insisted. “It was probably the best night of my whole fucking life. And now I just want to go home, Christian. I’m done. Enough. Just show me where to fucking sign.”

Christian sighed. He rested an elbow on his desk, running a hand over his hair. He stayed like for a long time and Mark could practically see the cogs turning. Christian was a problem solver and Mark knew he was trying to think his way out of this.

“We’re not doing this today,” Christian finally announced, reaching for a pen and jotting something down. He looked up at Mark. “I’m going to ask you for 48 hours. Cool down, let things settle, then we can talk.”

“I’m not a hot-headed kid,” Mark dismissed. “I know what I want.”

“That’s what we’re going to do,” Christian stated, no room for negotiation in his voice.

“Listen, mate...”

“I’ve given you 5 years,” Christian said curtly. “The least you can do is give me 48 hours.”

Mark sighed, leaning back in his chair, defeated.

“You know I have a lot of respect for you,” Christian said, his voice kinder now. “Whatever you tell me in 48 hours, that’s what we’re going to do, whether it’s what I want to hear or not.”

Mark nodded. There was nothing left to say.

Back out in the office he passed close to Ciaron’s desk. “Don’t make me any appointments for today,” he told him.

“Okay,” Ciaron nodded.

“And I might need a rain check for tomorrow,” Mark added.

“Got it,” Ciaron agreed. He glanced down at the envelope on his desk and seemed to think better of offering it to Mark again. Mark offered him a small smile, heading for the door.

In the hall he bumped into Jenson who was escorting David out of the building. Mark paused, looking at David and finding himself wondering just what he’d seen last night. He knew what David had _watched_ , of course, but what he’d seen was something else entirely. It was a matter of perspective, but Mark didn’t really think that looking at this from a different angle was going to help him much.

“Back so soon?” he asked instead, offering David a look that was hopefully playful.

“Your little performance got me pretty worked up last night,” David told him, practically leering. “Thought I’d enlist some help to let off a little steam.”

“Lucky Jenson,” Mark commented.

“Lucky Mark from what I hear,” Jenson returned, giving him a friendly little shove on the shoulder.

“Got any gossip from after I left?” David asked.

Mark shook his head. “Fucked off just after you did.”

“Should’ve let him catch his breath,” David told him. “He was definitely game for another round.” A matter of perspective, Mark thought again. David didn’t have a clue. “Well, I’ll love and leave the pair of you. Things to do, people to see.” He trailed his hand down the side of Jenson’s body. “Thank you for getting my day off to a good start.”

“No, no, thank you,” Jenson insisted, all charm. Mark rolled his eyes. As soon as David was out the door, Jenson turned to Mark, his expression suddenly more serious. “You wanna come up to my room? DC got me a present.”

“I think I’ve had enough of his presents lately,” Mark dismissed, taking a step away.

“Bottle of expensive scotch,” Jenson told him. “You can help me break it in. I’ve got an understanding ear as well, if you could use one of those.”

Up in Jenson’s room, Mark sat back on the sofa, glancing at the messy sheets on the bed as Jenson opened the scotch, pouring the amber liquid into two glasses. He handed one to Mark.

“We have something to celebrate or commiserate?” he asked.

“Not sure,” Mark responded honestly. He took a sip of his drink. It stung his throat. “I’ve told Christian I want to leave.”

Jenson sat down by his side. “Because of last night?”

“Because of a lot of things,” Mark replied. “Because I’m old and I’ve done it all and I’ve seen it all and it just gets harder to watch. I mean, I look at you and how much you still love it and I just don’t feel that way, mate. I’m just tired and I’m homesick and I...” He sighed, taking another slug of scotch.

Jenson let the silence sit for a few moments, swirling his drink thoughtfully around in his glass. “I can’t imagine you without Fernando. Or Fernando without you. He’s gonna be lost.”

“I think he’ll survive,” Mark said tersely. Fernando had an amazing ability to always come out on top.

“I think you might be making a mistake,” Jenson said carefully.

“Yeah, that was pretty much Christian’s opinion on the matter,” Mark agreed.

“To spend all those years building something up and then throw it away,” Jenson said, shaking his head slightly.

“I got what I wanted out of this career,” Mark told him. “I don’t have any regrets, not really. I’m not throwing it away. I’m moving on.”

Jenson looked at him. “I wasn’t talking about your career. I was talking about you and Fernando. Everybody sees it, by the way. We’re all waiting for you to get married.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “You can’t have anything real, not in this place. Doesn’t work, mate.”

“You might want to try and tell Felipe and Rob that,” Jenson stated. “They seem pretty content to me.”

Mark shook his head. “Rob doesn’t know what really goes on upstairs.”

“He takes the bookings, does all the negotiations, takes the clients up to Felipe’s door,” Jenson pointed out. “I think he knows.”

“Yeah, he knows that Felipe’s fucking people, that he’s doing it for money,” Mark agreed. “But he doesn’t really know. He hasn’t seen it, hasn’t experienced it. He doesn’t know what it takes to put yourself in that frame of mind, doesn’t know how half of these clients treat us, doesn’t know how sordid and distasteful the whole thing is. We know it’s nothing like as polished as the facade. He doesn’t get it, not really, and I doubt Felipe goes to the trouble of filling him in. If he really understood what Felipe did in that room, he’d never fucking touch him again.”

Jenson frowned. “Give the guy some credit. Maybe he can see past that.”

“I know I couldn’t,” Mark replied. Jenson looked at him meaningfully and Mark started talking again before he could say anything irritatingly insightful. “And look at Nico’s track record. Kid’s stupid that he ever tried again. These things don’t work out. When Adrian leaves, he’s going to be shattered all over again.”

Jenson looked at him levelly. “Stop looking for excuses,” he said. “Coward,” he added playfully.

“Don’t need excuses, mate,” Mark told him. “Got cold hard facts on my side.”

“Not much room for pragmatism in matters of the heart, man,” Jenson stated.

Mark gave him a look. “You’re such a fucking romantic.”

Jenson shrugged, leaning back against the sofa. “It’s what keeps ‘em coming back.”

“So, if you’re so convinced it’s worth the risk, tell me why you and DC never took the leap,” Mark challenged.

“Me and DC aren’t you and Fernando,” Jenson stated. “Pick your battles.”

Mark gave a breathy laugh. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

After lunch, Mark decided to go for a run. It was good to get out, get a bit of fresh air in his lungs and clear his head. He’d always loved the great outdoors, seeing a bit of scenery, but usually he felt tied to the bordello, knowing that he could get called back to meet with a client at any moment. It was freeing to be able to take a day off and just get out, run through the woods and listen to the birds and know that he could take his time. It felt good to get the endorphins going in a more healthy way for a change, without cloying scents and too hot rooms to weigh him down.

He returned exhausted but invigorated. He showered long and indulgently, hot water and lots of suds, before throwing on some comfortable clothes and settling himself down in front of the TV. It felt good to spoil himself a little. He was just feeling as though he could drift off into a pleasant snooze when there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” he called, shifting on the sofa and stretching his arms up over his head. Fernando stepped into the room and Mark pulled his arms back down, shrinking into the sofa again. “Hi,” he offered, unable to stop himself feeling guarded.

“I have been looking for you,” Fernando told him.

“Have you?” Mark asked. “I was with JB this morning, then I went out for a run.”

“Sounds nice,” Fernando said, stepping further into the room.

“It was,” Mark agreed.

Fernando held up some money. “You forgot this.” He sat down on the table in front of Mark. “Your share of the tip from David.”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t want it.”

Fernando frowned. “You earned it. Is yours.”

“Keep it,” Mark said dismissively.

“Is everything alright?” Fernando asked, looking concerned.

“Just keep the money,” Mark told him.

“Is yours,” Fernando said again, dropping it down on the table beside him, irritation clear in the gesture.

“Great, thanks, off you go then, mate,” Mark told him, focusing on the TV. Fernando reached for the remote, flicking it off. Mark turned to face him. “What?”

“I think we should talk about it,” Fernando said.

“Nothing to talk about,” Mark shrugged.

“Stop,” Fernando told him. “Why are you upset with me?”

Mark sighed. “I’m not, mate.”

“Then why you will not talk?” Fernando pressed.

Mark waved his hands helplessly in front of him. “What is there to talk about? It’s done and it’s over and... I’m leaving anyway.”

Fernando’s face dropped. “Leaving?”

“I’m buying myself out,” Mark told him. “Going home.”

“Because of me?” Fernando asked.

Mark shook his head. “Because of me.”

“But because of what we did,” Fernando insisted. “Because of last night.”

Mark shrugged. “Look, it answered a question, that’s all.”

“What question?” Fernando asked.

“I don’t know,” Mark replied. “Or I do, but I can’t... Fer, that’s not the point.”

“No,” Fernando said coldly. “The point is that you have had me. Ticked me off on your list. It does not make you special. For sure, I have been fucked by so many men. I am not difficult to have.”

“I know,” Mark agreed, a heavy feeling in his gut. “That’s why I’m walking away.”

“You are disappointed in me for being a whore?” Fernando asked. “I have let you down? You are doing this too, and you are not getting the money I am from it. Do not look at me like I am dirty.”

“Fernando, I’m making no fucking judgement call on what you do,” Mark told him. “I just don’t want to sit around and watch you do it, alright?”

“So you are running away?” Fernando asked. “This is very mature, Mark. Well done. Instead of talking to me, you are running away.”

“If that’s what you wanna call it,” Mark shrugged.

Fernando sighed, all of the fight seeming to go out of him. His mouth turned downwards, bottom lip sticking out slightly, and Mark wanted to kiss him. He wanted to hold him and make it better. He knew there was no better though; not for them.

“I will miss you if you go,” Fernando told him.

“I know,” Mark agreed. “I’ll miss you too.”

“So then you stay,” Fernando told him.

Mark shook his head. “Can’t, mate. But, y’know, I’ll only be on the other end of the phone.”

“You will be on the other side of the world,” Fernando said pointedly.

Mark smiled slightly. “You’ll be fine.”

Fernando looked up at him, hope in his eyes, and Mark silently begged him not to speak.

“Sometimes it works,” Fernando said. “We shouldn’t give up until we try.”

“I can’t watch you do this, Fernando,” Mark told him. “I know what you let them do to you, you tell me, often in graphic detail, and I’ve never been okay with that. That fucking photo, I mean, seriously, I can’t sit around and watch them chip pieces off you like that. I want all of you. That’s something I can’t have. So I’d rather have none of you at all.”

Fernando looked down. “Did you ever know about me and Lewis?”

Mark snorted a laugh. “Worst kept secret, mate.”

“We were always trying to be better than each other, and the fighting, was sexy, but we burn out too quick,” Fernando said. “But you, you are my best friend. Is no burn out. Last night felt... _right_. Is how it should be.”

“We were getting paid to fuck each other,” Mark pointed out. “That’s definitely not how it should be.”

Fernando looked up at him through his lashes. “Why you are trying to ruin it?”

“I’m just being honest,” Mark told him. “One of us has to be.”

“Fine,” Fernando said sharply. “Then I will be honest also.” He picked up the cash from the table and threw it at Mark. “Here is your dirty money you get for being such a good slut. You keep. Do not pretend to be something you are not. I know the things that you have done too. You are not better than me. You are filthy little whore and you cannot escape this, not even if you leave. You will never be good enough for anyone else. You are damaged goods and no one will want you. Remember that. Remember that I wanted you and you threw it away. Is too late to take moral high ground after everything you have done. You can scrub and scrub but I promise you will never be clean.”

He stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Mark looked down at himself, cash littered over his lap. He picked it all up carefully, methodically, trying very hard not to think about everything it represented. He walked across the room and lifted the mattress, reaching for the zip lock bag. Once he had it safely hidden away, he slunk down on the floor by the bed, staring blankly across the room. He could put his head in his hands, cry, scream, rage, but none of it would really help. It would only be an admission of everything he’d lost and he couldn’t face up to that right now.

He and Fernando managed to avoid each other for the main part in the following days. He saw through the required 48 hours and then went back to Christian’s office. Christian reluctantly accepted his resignation, but told Mark that these things took time, he needed to be patient, it would probably be a couple of weeks before he could leave. Mark signed the forms and handed over the cash, shaking Christian’s hand firmly and thanking him for everything he’d done.

With the remainder of his time he decided that he would take the mornings off, keeping with his routine of going for a run in the woods, or sometimes cycling the uneven terrain, but in the afternoons he would entertain clients like old times. He needed all the money he could get now, and maybe he wasn’t quite as ready to let go of the life as he’d thought. Easing himself out of it seemed like a sensible plan.

He phoned his parents, telling them he would be home soon. They never asked for the details on his job, but he knew they were proud of him. He was one of the elite few that got to the top of the game; world class, world famous and worth a fortune. Well, within these walls he was worth a fortune. Out in the world he was just like everyone else. He could hardly wait.

He was sat in the rec room, reading a magazine, when Nico vaulted over the back of the sofa, sitting by his side.

“I heard a rumour about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mark asked, looking up at him. “Which one, mate?”

“Does it matter?” Nico asked. “They’re all true, aren’t they?”

Mark nodded. He put the magazine down in his lap.

“I think you’re smart,” Nico told him.

Mark raised his eyebrows. “You never said anything that nice to me when we were working together.”

Nico gave him a look. “You made everyone call me Britney.”

“It suits you,” Mark shrugged unapologetically. Nico rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up, you love it.”

“I’m having second thoughts about being on your side now,” Nico told him. “I remember now how glad I was when you went to work for Christian.”

Mark laughed. “You were a rookie,” he stated. “I was just breaking you in.”

“You didn’t need to break me in,” Nico told him. “I know more about this life than you do.”

Mark nodded. Nico had grown-up with the bordello as his backdrop, his father having worked here many years ago, and so he understood the subtleties inside out.

“Anyway,” Nico said. “I think you only teased me because you liked me.”

“What can I say?” Mark replied. “I got a thing for princesses.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Nico stated. “Fallen hard for Fernando, haven’t you?”

Mark shook his head. “It’s not a fairytale, mate.”

“No,” Nico agreed. “It never is.”

Mark looked down at the magazine in his lap.

“I was talking to Jenson upstairs,” Nico stated, bringing his mind back to the conversation.

“Were you braiding each other’s hair?” Mark asked. Nico gave him the kind of exasperated look that never failed to make Mark smile. “Alright, I’m sorry, go on.”

“I was sticking up for you,” Nico told him. “I’m regretting it now.” He took a breath and focused himself. “Jenson thinks you’re making a mistake. I don’t.”

“You’re the only person who’s said that,” Mark stated.

Nico shrugged. “They don’t get it. I understand. It’s not possible to have a normal relationship, not in this place, no matter what you feel about them.”

Mark nodded. He folded the magazine and tossed it onto the table in front of him. “I guess you’d know.”

“My dad always warned me about getting too close to anyone,” Nico said. “He was talking between the lines, but I knew what he meant. I did it anyway. With me and Nels, I think part of it was the rebellion and part of it was the fact that we thought we knew better. His father warned him too of course. But when you’re young you don’t listen to good advice.”

“When I was a teenager I ran away to Europe with a woman twice my age,” Mark stated. “I didn’t see it that way at the time, but I think that might have been a bit of rebellion.”

“I think my father might have preferred it if I did that,” Nico stated. He smiled slightly, looking at Mark sideways. “Were you and Ann...”

“That was a long time ago,” Mark said curtly.

Nico nodded. “Sometimes Nels feels like another life.” He sighed, playing with the hem of his shirt. “We tried after he left to keep things going. Was never going to work. He got jealous and then he got drunk and then he would call me all kinds of things. He had a guilty conscience too. He played the game wrong and he knew it and he made it sound like my fault. Couldn’t last.”

Mark nodded. Thinking about Nels still prickled him to be honest, if only because of Fernando’s involvement in his downfall. Fernando had always insisted, even to Mark, that it was nothing to do with him, that he never asked for any sacrifices to be made on his behalf. But he was Fernando Alonso; he never had to _ask_.

Nico looked at him. “That’s not really the point,” he said. “It doesn’t really matter that he left. Do you know what the hardest thing always was? With Nels and with Adrian?”

“What’s that?” Mark asked.

“Just finding time,” Nico said. “Finding the right moment because there is no right moment. Working around each other’s schedules and then you never want to be together after one of you has just been with a client, and one of you has always just been with a client. I mean, I can separate love and sex, it’s my job, but sometimes I can’t put them together. Sometimes it’s hard to just be together and not have it feel like...” He shrugged his shoulders, searching for the right word. “...work.”

Mark looked down. Nico’s mindset seemed a little fucked up, but he wasn’t sure if he didn’t relate to it a little too much. Sex with Fernando had felt a world away from how sex with his clients had always been, there was no comparison in his mind. But really, if he was honest with himself, when he’d fucked Fernando he’d just been pleasing another client. David’s money and insistence had freed something in him, let him have what he wanted and feel like he was allowed to take it, but if he had Fernando in a room on his own, if it was Fernando’s permission that had been granted, Mark wasn’t sure he’d be able to capture that same freedom again.

“When I think about anyone else touching him, it makes my skin crawl,” he admitted.

“It sucks,” Nico nodded. “My dad was right, it’s never a good idea. But who do you meet when you work here? Clients and colleagues. I know which one I’d rather date.”

“You’d do it again?” Mark asked. “After everything?”

Nico snorted a laugh. “I thought I’d learnt my lesson with Nels. Then Adrian happened. Giving in felt less destructive than fighting it. At the time.” He looked up at Mark, meeting his eyes. “I still think you have the right idea. I won’t say I regret it, that wouldn’t be fair on Adrian, but when he goes, we won’t try to make it work, not like I did with Nels.”

“If you start something, shouldn’t you make an effort to finish it?” Mark asked.

Nico shrugged. “This is how it finishes. It’s how it always finishes. We could make the effort, but Adrian has his own demons, I don’t think he’d handle it any better than Nels did.”

Mark sighed. “Sounds like Fernando.” Nico gave him a questioning look. Mark shook his head, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s not talking to me. Not that I’m making much of an effort to talk to him either. We had a bit of an argument and he got all dramatic and threw some choice words about.”

Nico nodded. “Once you start down that road, it only gets worse. A clean break is the right thing to do.” He looked back down, playing with his shirt again. “Adrian thinks I’m being cruel. One more person turning their back on him. He doesn’t see how hard it is for me too. How can you commit when everyday you’re doing this? I’m not ready to give it up. I still have so much left to prove. I think this place has my heart. For now I can’t give it to anyone else.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said. “Must be tough.”

“For you too,” Nico agreed. “But you’re making the right choice. Fernando isn’t about to slow down. You need to look after yourself. Don’t give your heart to people who can’t make you promises. It’s the easiest way to get it broken.”

If there was anyone’s advice that Mark was going to respect on this subject, it was Nico’s. It wasn’t because he was the only one who’d openly had relationships in the bordello, or even because he was saying what Mark wanted to hear. It was because this place was a part of Nico, interwoven into his own history. He’d taken everything he could from his father and then he’d gone out there and stood on his own two feet, never afraid to make his own mistakes and learn from them on his way to the top. Mark knew that none of them really got the life like Nico did, and maybe he didn’t have everything quite worked out, but Mark thought he was a hell of a lot closer than the rest of them.

Nico gave a tired sigh. “Do you fancy a game of Mario Kart?” he asked.

“Reckon we should round the boys up and have ourselves a little championship,” Mark replied. Nico smiled.

It was great when they all got together in a common pursuit, even if it was one that just intensified their natural competitiveness. There was banter and dirty tactics and lots of laughter, all of it in good spirits. People drifted in and out of the tournament throughout the evening as they were called away to clients, but none of them took it seriously enough to care, easily handing the controller over to the nearest person mid-race if they had to leave. It was all just a bit of fun. Mark got the impression that he wasn’t the only person in need of it.

When he finally returned to his room, still buzzed, he found Fernando curled up in his bed. He paused in the doorway and then slammed the door shut behind himself, watching as Fernando flinched at the sound.

“Yeah, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” he commented, heading across the room.

When Fernando didn’t respond, Mark turned to look at him. Fernando’s eyes were downcast, his expression a mixture of misery and embarrassment. Mark sighed, feeling bad for being so harsh.

“Bad night?” he asked. It was the usual reason for Fernando being in his room.

Fernando lifted his eyes up to meet Mark’s. “I think...” he began hesitantly, before his eyes slipped down again. “I think if I ask for three times as much for two client then it will be worth it.”

Mark rolled his eyes and tried very hard not to get angry. “It wasn’t worth it?” he guessed.

Fernando looked up at him again. His eyes said it all. Mark moved over, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No,” Fernando said, frowning as he shook his head. “Was nothing like this. But was hard to be in control when they are in two places. I am taking care of one and then the other is touching or pulling and I cannot always see. I have one in my mouth and other is behind and I cannot move. I did not like it.”

He closed his eyes tight and Mark stroked the hair away from his face. “Fer,” he said sadly. “You need to get smarter. I don’t know how many times I can say it.”

“They did not do anything I did not want,” Fernando told him, the predictable excuses tumbling out. Mark wondered how he could be so angry and so protective towards Fernando at the same time.

“Not the point,” he stated.

“Just do not like it all at once,” Fernando continued. “I like space to move into, just in case. This is smart, yes?”

“Smart to want it,” Mark agreed. “Not smart to put yourself in a position where you might not get it.” He pulled his arm away, rubbing his hands over his own face. “What the fuck are you gonna do when I’m gone, mate?”

He heard Fernando sniffle and looked up to see him burying his face in the pillow. His gut twisted unpleasantly at the sight. He told himself that it wasn’t his fault, that Fernando often got emotional after a tough night, but he felt guilty anyway. What _was_ Fernando going do after he left? He’d severed most of his ties in this place a long time ago. He might know how to play the game, but Mark wasn’t sure how long he’d really last without a friend.

Getting to his feet, Mark unfastened his jeans and dropped them to the floor, climbing into the bed beside Fernando. He snuggled up against his back, his arm going around Fernando’s waist. Fernando shifted back slightly, pressing warmly against him.

“Run away with me,” Mark whispered.

Fernando didn’t say anything but his hand slid downwards, taking hold of Mark’s hand and twining their fingers together. Mark knew that it was the only response he was going to get.

In the morning, Mark woke to the sound of Fernando’s phone ringing beside the bed. He pushed himself up onto one elbow, looking down at Fernando who was still sleeping soundly.

“Fer,” he said, playing his fingers through Fernando’s hair. “It’s yours.”

Fernando stirred, looking grumpy, and reached for the phone. “Si?”

Mark rolled away from him, staring at the ceiling while he listened to Fernando grunt on the phone. He finally hung up, running a hand through his hair.

“Andrea?” Mark guessed.

“I have client,” Fernando nodded. He sighed, stretching. “One hour.”

“Are you alright to work?” Mark asked.

“Is fine,” Fernando told him. He sat up and then looked down at Mark. “Thank you. Sorry I have been not very nice to you. I am...”

“Heartbroken at my imminent departure, I know,” Mark said breezily.

Fernando laughed. “Yes. Of course.” He licked his lips, face becoming more serious. “Is shame I have client. I would like to come for a run with you sometimes I think.”

“It’d do you good,” Mark agreed. “Clears the head and the soul.”

Fernando nodded. “Another day.” He climbed from the bed, pulling on his clothes before looking back at Mark. “How much longer you will be here?”

Mark shrugged. “Not long. Another week maybe. Depends how quickly the head honchos pull their fingers out.”

Fernando nodded, looking down at the floor. “We will go for a run before you leave,” he promised. “I will make sure.”

“I’ll look forward to it, mate,” Mark told him, trying not to get his hopes up.

As it happened, Fernando stayed true to his word and the next day he had a companion for his run through the woods. They didn’t talk, too focused on pacing themselves and navigating the uneven ground, but it was nice to have some company. It felt honest, somehow, being with Fernando out here, as though everything were stripped away like it could never be inside the bordello.

Mark often thought about kissing him, pushing him up against one of the trees that surrounded them and hid them from view. He knew that he wouldn’t though. It wouldn’t be fair on either of them to start something he had no intention of finishing, no matter how much he wanted it.

For the rest of that week, Fernando seemed to find a lot of free time to spend with Mark. Most mornings he joined Mark for his run and during the day he made the effort to sit in the rec room between appointments, a place he usually avoided unless he had something to brag about. Ron Dennis had once described Fernando as a recluse, and he wasn’t far wrong. He kept to himself, but Mark knew he was more focused than stuck up. There was definitely an open and friendly side to him, he just didn’t let many people near it.

Fernando spending more time out of his room made Mark hopeful though; not for anything to happen between the two of them, but for Fernando being alright after he was gone. Mark often felt like the buffer between Fernando and the rest of the bordello, the safe place that he could always go to. If Fernando wanted to survive in this place, he was going to have to make some changes.

Whatever Fernando’s motivations, Mark had to admit that he liked having Fernando around more often, as bittersweet as it was. Fernando wasn’t usually sentimental about anything and so when he curled up next to Mark on one of the rec room sofas, when he rested his head down on Mark’s shoulder, Mark knew that he’d be missed. It made him almost not want to leave. It was a dangerous thought and he always pushed it quickly away, but often not quickly enough.

One evening the two of them sat with Jenson and Nico, playing a game of cards in the rec room, when Lewis pulled up a chair, looking exasperated.

“I think I win worst fucking client of the week,” he declared.

Jenson smiled. “Go on.”

Lewis shook his head. “Weirdo wanted me to call him ‘daddy’ all the way through it. Shit like that seriously creeps me out.”

“But you did it,” Jenson said knowingly.

Lewis shrugged. “He paid for it. Wasn’t like it was really hurting anyone.”

“Must be difficult for you though,” Fernando cut in. “With your daddy issues.”

Mark rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to Fernando and Lewis bickering at each other all evening. “Are we playing or what?” he prompted, gesturing to the game.

Jenson placed his cards face down on the table and leaned back in his chair, a clear answer. “I had a guy earlier this week,” he began. “The noises he was making, he sounded like a dolphin being choked or something, and it only got more ridiculous the more into it he got. I could barely keep a straight face. Nightmare. It’s really hard to come when you’re laughing that much inside.”

“I think I heard him,” Lewis nodded.

“Couldn’t miss him,” Jenson insisted. “I told Dave never again. He’ll have to send him to someone else.”

“I had someone this week,” Nico stated, placing his own cards down, and Mark couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. He just wanted to play a game of cards; he had no interest in just who everyone had been fucking this week. “He wouldn’t let me take my pants off,” Nico continued.

Lewis looked confused. “Isn’t that kind of defeating the object of coming here?”

“He wanted to make me come in my pants,” Nico clarified. “So he could call me a dirty boy. Really gross. I hate that.”

Lewis turned his attention to Fernando. “Come on then.”

Fernando looked up from where he’d been staring at the table. He looked embarrassed, and Mark knew there wasn’t much that embarrassed Fernando. “What?”

“Your turn,” Lewis told him, a slightly mocking tone in his voice. “You’re gonna take the piss out of me, you can share your worst client with us.”

Fernando shrugged. His eyes flicked to Mark and then back down to the table. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” Lewis scoffed. “Does that mean you loved them all? Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“No,” Fernando said, his voice small. He looked at Mark again and Mark had to look away.

“Come on, whose turn is it?” he asked, looking around the table.

“What about you?” Lewis asked, nodding at Mark.

“I had a really good one a couple of days ago,” Jenson cut in. He was gazing across the room and Mark couldn’t tell if he’d interrupted to help him out or if he was just lost in the memory. “You know, someone who knew what they were fucking doing. Got a little caught up actually. Took quite a lot of concentration not to come all over him before I was supposed to.”

“Lovely visual, mate,” Lewis said, giving him a look.

Mark gritted his teeth. Listening to them comparing unpleasant clients made him feel uncomfortable but somehow Jenson’s story was even worse. Everyone had encounters in this place that were less than perfect, it was to be expected that some people were going to ask things that weren’t exactly in your personal list of favourite things, and Mark had always been fine with that, had always been able to draw a clear line between what he wanted and what he got. The idea of letting your guard down with a client, of actually _enjoying_ it, that was what made Mark really uncomfortable. He knew that he’d been there before, but right now it seemed unsavoury to actually _want_ what one of these men was giving you.

“Why the fuck was he wasting his time coming here?” he mumbled, playing with the edge of his cards.

“What?”

Mark looked up at Jenson whose face was curious and perhaps a little pissed off. “What?” Mark echoed back at him.

“Only people who are shit in bed should have to pay for it?” Jenson asked. “That what you’re saying? I don’t do this job out of pity.”

Mark shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. Forget it, mate.”

“I’m not a cheap fuck,” Jenson stated. “I’m an experience.”

He winked, that familiar twinkle in his eye, and Mark knew that he was just trying to wind him up. There was a certain truth in it though. If people wanted sex there were plenty of street corners they could get it on for a hell of a lot less than this. They really were selling an experience, as corny as it sounded, and Mark wondered when the obvious lie of it stopped being fun and started feeling like a chore. They weren’t pulling the wool over anyone’s eyes and they definitely weren’t winning.

“When did you two become so fucking coy, anyway?” Lewis demanded, eyeing up Mark and Fernando. “You don’t usually hold back on the juicy details.”

It was true, they didn’t. Mark was fairly sure the answer for Fernando was simple; he didn’t mind spilling every dirty thing he’d been up to, especially if it got a reaction, but he didn’t want to do it in front of Mark. If he wasn’t there, Mark was confident that Fernando would be trading stories with Lewis in lurid detail, but in his company Fernando had become more reserved. They didn’t talk about work anymore. Mark wondered if Fernando really thought they could pretend all this sleaze wasn’t going on around them. He wondered if Fernando really thought that not talking about it would make anything ever seem normal between them.

For Mark, the answer to Lewis’s question was more complex. He could say the clients didn’t interest him anymore now that he was leaving, but he knew it went further back than that. It would be horribly naive of him to pretend that his night with Fernando had come with some kind of magical epiphany. Fernando wasn’t the reason he was leaving so much as he was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Mark had tired of clients a long time ago, had tired of the whole routine. He didn’t get the same joy out of the life as he had even a couple of years ago and listening to the other’s trade stories of their worst nights and seeing how much fulfilment it still managed to give them only confirmed to him that his time had come and gone. He didn’t want to laugh about the losers and the weirdoes and he didn’t want to compliment the people who managed to show him something like a good time. Once they’d walked out of his room, he didn’t want to think about them at all.

“Not much to tell this week,” he stated honestly, hoping that it might at least move the conversation forward.

“Well, aren’t you a bore,” Jenson stated rather extravagantly before Lewis could get a word in. He picked his cards back up. “My turn, was it?”

Mark offered him a smile, knowing this time that he was being saved.

On Thursday he got the phone call. His contract was officially annulled; he was free to leave.

Fernando was sitting by his side, watching a football game with Mark in his room. Their arms had been touching where they were sat close together but as Mark hung up the phone, Fernando shifted away, looking at him. Mark looked back and he knew he didn’t need to say anything. He sighed, a silent apology in his eyes, and Fernando got to his feet, walking away without a word.

Mark spent most of the evening packing up his things and making arrangements. He’d long had links with Qantas airlines, being a regular stop over attraction with many of their pilots, so he’d stored up a favour or two along the way, meaning it was easy for him to secure himself a free seat on a decent flight back home. He rang up his parents, telling them to get the spare room ready, and felt a rush of excitement that it was really happening. _Home._ He’d forgotten what it was like to be there for more than a couple of weeks, his tether to the bordello always dragging him back before he was ready.

A knock on the door took him out of his thoughts. “Come in,” he called cheerily.

Jenson stepped into the room. “Alright? Think you can go down to the rec room for a bit?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “No send offs, mate. I fucking told Ciaron.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Jenson told him. “Nico wants to play Mario Kart, I’ve got a client, so he told me to knock on your door on the way up and tell you to get your grumpy arse downstairs.” He looked at Mark’s bag. “You going somewhere?” he asked, that teasing twinkle in his eye.

“Fuck off,” Mark told him.

“Yeah, alright,” Jenson agreed easily. “You go keep Nico company. I’ve got to go and improve on perfection,” he said, pointed at his face and fluttering his eyelashes. He winked at Mark before closing the door behind himself.

Mark shook his head, throwing a couple more shirts into his bag. When it came down to it, not much in this room was his. He spent most of his time in clothes provided by his employers, his personal style hidden away as soon as he signed the contract. He’d never minded, but now he felt a bit like he was having to start from scratch all over again. Maybe that was a good thing.

Downstairs, Mark wasn’t the least bit surprised to find everyone crammed into the rec room. There was a lopsided banner on the back wall that read _‘Good luck mate!’_ and a large cake on the table that Mark was sure Jenson was responsible for. Mark smiled and tried to make a show of looking surprised and grateful. He _was_ grateful, even if he would have preferred to have slipped out the back door without a fuss. It was nice to know that he had friends here and that they’d take time out of their evenings to wish him well.

He made an effort to thank each of them individually, moving around the room and exchanging memories, remembering good times that he’d almost forgotten about. By the time the majority of the people had gone back to their jobs, he was feeling quite nostalgic for the bordello, but to him it was all already in the past tense. There was nothing left for him now but one last game of Mario Kart against Seb. He didn’t win, but then he never expected to. To Seb these things were still important. Mark was more than happy to let him carry the torch now.

Fernando spent the whole evening there, evidently deciding to take a night off, and Mark felt honoured. They didn’t really speak, but Fernando was always close by. When Mark stood to leave, he passed by where Fernando was curled up on the other sofa, leaning down and silently placing a kiss on the top of his head before making his way up to bed.

The next morning, Mark went through the motions of getting ready in the same way he’d mentally prepare himself for a client. He went through his familiar routine of showering and dressing, never letting the thoughts get too big inside his mind. Anything could be achieved when you took it one step at a time; left shoe, right shoe, jacket, check passport, check ticket, zip up bag, open door.

He stopped in his tracks, finding himself staring at Fernando sitting down against the wall opposite his door. Fernando looked up at him, hair a mess and eyes sleepy, and offered him a smile.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked. “Did you sleep here?”

“You are big tough Aussie bloke, yes?” Fernando asked, climbing stiffly to his feet. “I think you do not like goodbyes.”

Mark gave a small laugh. “Yeah, you got me there, mate.”

Fernando nodded. “I like goodbyes. And I did not sleep here. I just get up very early. I think maybe you try to sneak out.”

Mark shrugged, not bothering to deny it. He’d chosen the earliest flight he could get his hands on, determined to leave without a fuss. He’d never been one for parades and tickertape. He’d always made an effort to be upfront and so he was certain that everyone here knew exactly how he felt about them, for better or worse. Sentimentality wasn’t really his thing.

Fernando took a breath and sighed, moving closer and throwing his arms around Mark, hugging him tightly. Mark hugged him back, feeling a tightness in his chest. This is what he didn’t want. This was the kind of moment that regrets were made in.

“I will miss you,” Fernando said, voice strained and slightly muffled.

“You’ll be fine,” Mark insisted.

Fernando pulled back slightly to look him in the eye. “I will miss you,” he stated firmly.

They stared at each other, too many feelings and things going unsaid, and Mark had to look away. Fernando pushed himself up on his tiptoes, aiming for a kiss, but Mark lifted a hand, pressing a finger against Fernando’s lips.

“It’s not safe,” he stated, reminding Fernando of his own words. Fernando’s eyebrows knitted together, a sulky pout forming on his mouth. “You have standards,” Mark told him. “Keep hold of them. Keep yourself safe. For me.”

Fernando’s eyes went soft and he retreated, placing his heels back down on the floor. Mark’s hand fell away, hanging idly by his side. Fernando’s own hands went to the lapels of Mark’s jacket. He gave the impression that he was straightening the material out but Mark could tell that he was holding on, stopping Mark from running away.

“I will be good,” Fernando promised, staring at Mark’s chest.

“Don’t be good,” Mark joked. “You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

Fernando met his eyes again. He didn’t look amused. “I want to kiss you.”

Mark shook his head. “It’s dangerous,” he said, and they both knew they weren’t talking about bodily fluids anymore.

Fernando slid his arms back around Mark’s body, leaning into him. “Goodbye,” he said, voice quiet.

“Bye, Fer,” Mark returned, holding him close for a few moments until he was afraid that if he didn’t let go now he’d never be able to. He placed his hands on Fernando’s shoulders, forcing a slight distance between them. “Got a plane to catch.”

“Yes,” Fernando agreed.

Mark nodded. There was nothing else to say. He gave a playful little punch to the side of Fernando’s face, making Fernando smile, and then he turned and walked away while he could still feel his legs.

He took the stairs slowly, carefully, and stepped inside the office. It was usually empty so early in the morning, shifts didn’t start for a good hour yet, but Rob was in there, sticking a gold star onto the leader board for Felipe. He turned around, looking at Mark like he’d been caught in the act.

“Just came to call a taxi, mate,” Mark explained. “Don’t worry, I saw nothing.”

Rob laughed, ducking his head as he stepped away from the chart. “I can call one for you.”

Mark nodded. “Thanks.” He glanced at the leader board as Rob picked up the phone. “Good luck, mate,” he told him, nodding towards the gold stars. He hoped that it was understood that he wasn’t really talking about the leader board. Judging by the look on Rob’s face, the message had gotten through.

“You too,” Rob told him.

Mark gave him a smile. “I’m gonna wait outside,” he told him, jabbing his thumb towards the door.

As he stepped into the grounds of the bordello, he recalled his mental checklist, using each tiny step to make the journey seem surmountable. Taxi, check-in, security, lounge, boarding, flight, home.

His parents met him at the airport, hugging him long and hard, and he felt the tears pricking at his eyes. The full enormity of it didn’t truly hit him until he was back in that house though, sitting on the bed in his parent’s spare room. His mum was cooking dinner and his friends were waiting in the wings to take him out for a drink and the normality of it was overwhelming. It had been so long since he could do what he wanted and go where he wanted and not have to worry about getting a phone call telling him that in an hour someone was going to come up to his room and he was going to have to put aside all of his own wants and needs to please them.

It was an over-simplification. There were far more things that he loved about that place than hated. He liked the community, the safety, the security. He liked the thrill of being wanted, being coveted, every new client a fresh adventure. He liked being taken to glamorous functions, being shown amazing experiences, being respected for his job, even by the people that wanted the most disgusting things from him. He liked being touched like he was something special, liked the fact that people really _believed_ he was worth all that money.

It left him feeling strangely directionless now that he knew no one would ever look at him like that again. He might still be coveted in certain circles, could certainly make a living off the back of his years at the bordello, but a new stage of life was opening up to him and he felt like he had far too many choices.

He got to his feet, unzipping his bag and turning to a familiar routine. He pulled each item out one by one, opening drawers and cupboards and finding places for all of his belongings. He didn’t really intend to stay here very long but it was a comfort just to have a simple task to occupy his mind. When the bag was nearly empty, he stuck his hand in and felt something that he definitely didn’t remember putting in there. He peered inside, watching as his hand pulled out a carefully bound stack of cash.

He stared at it. He didn’t need to count it to know how much was there. £5000. The money Fernando had earned for a single dirty photograph.

Maybe he should feel dirty by association of where the money came from, but instead he felt touched. Fernando knew how Mark felt about what he’d done, the argument they’d had culminating in Mark accusing him of only caring about the money. Mark felt like he knew Fernando well enough to understand what this was; a peace offering. He was showing Mark that he understood there were things more important than money, and that maybe their friendship was one of them.

Mark dropped the money back into the bag and pulled his phone from his pocket, typing out a text.

_Thank you_

He zipped the bag back up and slid it under the bed. Buying his way out of his contract had left him with practically nothing, a fact that Fernando knew. That cash would help see him through until he got himself back on his feet.

It was when he was eating dinner with his parents that his phone beeped in his pocket, signalling Fernando’s response.

_You are welcome. Enjoy your home x_

Mark smiled to himself. He definitely had no intentions of taking anything for granted. He slid his phone back into his pocket and focused on what was right in front of him.

*

Mark rolled onto his stomach, sinking his toes into the soft, warm sand beneath him. The ocean was blue, the sky bluer, and Mark felt a heavy contentment settling over him at how beautiful it all was. He’d been making up for lost time since he’d gotten back, never passing up the chance to get out there and do something, but it was nice to just have the chance to sit back and soak it all up.

His phone rang and he grabbed his bag, pausing as he looked at the display. Fernando.

“Alright, mate?”

“Hello,” Fernando greeted. “How is Australia?”

“Good,” Mark nodded. “Beautiful. I’m just working on my tan at the beach actually.”

“That sounds very nice,” Fernando said and Mark could hear the smile in his voice. It made Mark smile back.

“It is,” he agreed. “It really is, mate.” He looked at his watch. “Isn’t it the middle of the night there?”

“Yes,” Fernando agreed. “I was not able to sleep. I would usually go to your room but... You did say I could call any time.”

“I meant it,” Mark assured him. “Everything okay?”

“For sure, is fine,” Fernando insisted. “Tell me about Australia. You are at the beach?”

“Yeah,” Mark said, sighing as he looked around. “Been doing a spot of surfing this morning with some mates, but I’ve left them to it this afternoon. Feeling a bit heavy after lunch, thought I’d take it easy.”

“You are getting fat?” Fernando teased.

“Might do,” Mark responded. “Nothing to stop me now.”

“I think you will not stay still long enough to get fat,” Fernando said fondly. “You are settled now?”

“Getting there,” Mark agreed. “I’m just taking it one step at a time, haven’t really made any big decisions yet. I’ve moved into a flat with a couple of mates which is working out nicely for now. I’ve been offered some stuff, mentor programmes and guest speaker spots about the life and all that, but I’m trying to take a bit of a break to be honest. Not many Aussies really get to the top in this job so there’s a lot of interest in my story, book deals and all sorts. I’m just looking at my options.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Fernando said. “You are always careful in your decisions.”

“I try,” Mark agreed. “You only get one shot at a lot of things in life.”

There was a silence between them; not necessarily uncomfortable, but loaded all the same. He still wasn’t sure whether walking away had wasted his one shot with Fernando or saved it.

“So, come on,” Mark said, trying to lighten the mood. “Tell me all the gossip. What’s been going on in my absence?”

“I am not a gossip,” Fernando told him.

“You been out of your room long enough to know what’s going on?” Mark asked.

“Yes,” Fernando replied. “Just tonight I was winning Lewis at Mario Kart. He was not very happy. He teaches me lots of English swear words.”

Mark laughed, picturing it all too clearly. “Sounds like you’ve been having fun.”

“I suppose,” Fernando said, sounding a little downbeat. “I was talking with Stefano today.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mark asked. “You’re not getting yourself into trouble are you?”

“No,” Fernando responded, offended. “You told me to be good. I have been good.”

“Told you to be safe actually,” Mark corrected.

“I have been safe too,” Fernando assured him.

“Glad to hear it,” Mark replied. “So what have you been talking to Stefano about?”

Fernando sighed and Mark could hear him shifting slightly, the rustle of sheets. He imagined him lying in bed, his hair messy on the pillow, his body warm beneath the covers.

“I have only one year left on my contract,” Fernando said. “They have options on me. I think they would like to keep me. But they cannot make me stay.”

“No,” Mark agreed, keeping his answers carefully guarded. “I suppose they can’t.”

“I think that I will save up my money,” Fernando said. “Be smart like you tell me. Then maybe...”

He trailed off. Mark let it hang there. He wasn’t going to hope and he certainly wasn’t going to ask. He listened to Fernando’s breathing, the soft sleepy breaths transmitted over a phone line from the other side of the world. He felt lonely all of a sudden, and yet he felt connected. The sun was hot on his back, the ground warm beneath him, and he played a hand through the fine sand, imagining that he could slip right through the core of the earth and find himself in Fernando’s arms.

“I think you’d like it here,” he found himself saying, an admission in the words that he wasn’t ready to make.

“Maybe you can show me someday,” Fernando replied.

_Maybe_ , Mark agreed silently, looking up at the waves and his friends and the world that was his for the taking.


End file.
